The Magic In Those Eyes
by LuckyNumeralThirteen
Summary: Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. Peter Parker, the Amazing Spider-man. Two heroes, two separate universes. But when Harry is tired of the constant betrayal and misery that is his life, he strikes a deal with Death and the two come together to help… wait, are those the Avengers? (Includes animal/human tranfiguration, severe diversions from canon, and LGTBQ stuffs, such as slash)
1. Chapter 1

**Holy cannoli, I'm gonna post something! I've never done anything like this before in my ENTIRE LIFE! To be honest, I kinda feel like I'm gonna throw up whatever's fluttering around in my stomach… but I'm also super excited! 'Cause I've written stuff before, but I've never actually shared them.**

 **Well, for this I've crossed Harry Potter and Marvel. Marvel characters is basically everyone from the Avengers movie (the first one) plus Spider-man and Harry.**

 **I'll be following Peter Parker and Harry Potter the whole time, going back and forth. Translation: I'm going to screw with the movie plotline by adding extra characters. I have nothing against Spider-man: Homecoming, in fact, I love it and think it's the best Spidey movie ever. Same goes for the rest of the MCU. But I have a very creative mindset and can't help but mess with this kind of thing. Which is why I write fanfiction.**

 **For Peter Parker, AKA Spider-man, his background isn't any sort of canon, just kind of made up as I go along.**

 **Anyways, it'll start out at the very end of the Harry Potter series with the whole "final battle" thing in Deathly Hollows Part Two. I shifted his age, so instead of being seventeen, my Harry is fourteen. Everything that happened in the books happened, just shift it back a few years. When Peter enters, he's also fourteen. They will get older, just pay attention to the time skips. All the Avengers and those characters are whatever age they are in the movie. Just roll with it.**

 **And there will be character death (*sobs*). I'm so sorry! I have nothing against the characters I kill off, it's only for the plotline. I have some very fun ideas for what I want the main characters to look like (remember that the Avengers just stay the same as they are during the movie, looks, age, everything). Here's some links. Just delete the spaces when you put them in.**

 **Peter Parker: "peter parker" by barbsart on Redbubble (really good, now my phone background);**

 **www. redbubble people/ barbsart/ works/ 27527497- peter- parker? c= 637305- all- fanart**

 **Random Pinterest post (and yes, I know it talks about astral projection when that's clearly not what's going on, but just focus on the drawing, 'kay? 'Cause it's good)**

 **i. pinimg 736x/ 6f/ 7c/ 97/ 6f7c97e5d1f38f6357e960aed704224d. jpg**

 **Homemade Spidey Suit: this really cool hoodie thing fanart I found online;**

 **grizzlybomb. files. wordpress 2015/ 07/ rosy- higgins- project- rooftop- spidey- redesign. png? w=810**

 **Harry Potter: as drawn by the excellent artist Viria on Tumblr;**

 **lh3. googleusercontent nMSVWZvH5wiq1NOKKntpSoe7whYJ0CQhFxQcwCOXbmUVVM8N mMtkABh0a5WgWNxiUvoaGwWcr- TISQ= w776- h1030- no**

 **I'm so sorry I couldn't find the artist for the hoodie suit or the Pinterest post, but wherever and whoever they are they are amazing! And for Peter, just kinda combine barbsart's and the random Pinterest thing, I usually have him in the former's clothes for the first parts. I basically just didn't want Peter's jawline to be quite so sharp. BTW, I'm going to try and actually separate things into sudo-paragraphs since there's less dialogue for a lot of it, but I've never really done that before, so we'll see how it goes.**

 **A few more things to know about my writings in general. I do write homosexual pairings and stuff like that, so don't like, don't read. I personally believe that love is love but recognize that not everyone feels like that and that I can't force my beliefs on anyone. Secondly, there will be nothing above PG-13 stuff and most of it won't even get up to that level. The most I've written in the past (the stuff I wrote, then deleted before I had this account) has been kissing, snuggling, and one poor guy who woke up in his underpants.**

 **Go and read!**

 **LuckyNumeralThirteen**

 **(but seriously, please, it's just Lucky)**

* * *

The Magic In Those Eyes by LuckyNumberThirteen

Chapter One: Voldemort Gets What's Coming to Him

There's too much. There's _been_ too much. Too much suffering, too much pain, too much death from the moment it all started.

He should've known that Ron and Hermione would've let him just leave. They couldn't just let him walk off and die like he was supposed to do. Like he was _destined_ to do. He held onto that thought bitterly until it was washed away by the memories, their sadness, the anger that came with remembering how each of his friends died.

The battle – could it be called a battle when it was fought by children, teenagers who had no place in a warzone? – was chaos. He saw steadfast Hogwarts students shoot off spells he knew he had taught them once, filling him with warm pride, but it was washed away as they fell. He saw the twins, run through, back-to-back, by some spelled-up spike. He saw Neville decapitate Nagini, that stupid snake, only to fall to the venom of her bite. One thing his herbs couldn't heal. He recalled, the warm feeling returning, not with pride, but burning hatred for Voldemort and his delusional followers, how Ron took a spell for Hermione as they dueled opponents left and right and fell next to her.

How the bushy-haired girl spun and wailed, the sound cutting through everything just to reach his ears, falling next to him while throwing up some complicated warding shield she'd probably found in some obscure book. He knew how smart she was, she was his best friend, sometimes his only friend. But she fell, and she cried next to their fallen friend like everyone else, like he would've had he not been pinned by a Death Eater. That Death Eater met an unfortunate end after he saw an unknown curse slice through the barrier Hermione had put up, both spells as ancient and effective as they came, and she fell. The only thing that kept him from pouring all his anger at that one _turncoat_ – he spat the word in his mind – was that the root of all his sorrows and problems was Voldemort, not this random man that had previously kept him down while his friends suffered. As it was, that man was obliterated by a viciously silent _Sectumsempra_.

The black-haired boy slid down the trunk of the tree he'd been stuck to, a tear leaking unbidden from the corner of his eye, and the fighting seemed to fade to the background in his mind, lulled into a mesh of muffled noise. But he only got a half-second rest until the thud beside him broke through the film over his verdant green irises, his head snapping to the side as usually dreamy blue eyes locked onto his. Luna had tumbled to the ground accompanied by the swish of underbrush, downed by yet another Death Eater, yet another wizard for him to unleash his wrath upon, though he – miraculously – kept his cool in the face of his last friend's death. Her lips parted, and her eyes stared off somewhere unseen like his had mere moments before.

"Live," Luna murmured, dreamily yet focused on what she was determined to get out.

"Luna," he pleaded, " _Luna_ , stay with me. You'll live. I-I'll find somebody, a healer, a doctor, _somebody_!"

"Live," the Ravenclaw repeated breathlessly, "a better life. For… yourself."

"No," he whispered as his eyes widened. His last friend, the last one who cared and who he cared for, was shakily taking her last breath under his shaking hands and there was nothing he could do. "No. No, no, no! _No!_ " But she was gone and the light in her eyes had faded out. "No…" Almost unconsciously – though revenge clouded his thoughts – his hands curled into fists as his magic sparked around him, his body trembling with rage and power. No one stood in his way, friend or foe, as he stalked across the forest straight to the Dark Lord himself, Voldemort. The snake-faced man balked when he saw the angry teen striding towards him, white magic crackling over him, around his fists and glasses, lightning-like strands zapping in his hair, then quickly composed himself. Voldemort shuffled his feet into a more threatening position, wand poised to attack in his pale hand. The boy simply stepped up to face him with hands by his sides and wand held so loosely it might fall as his hard eyes flashed through his round glasses. He made no move to attack, nor defend, just standing openly.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort hissed his name hatefully. Harry nearly sneered at the tone, it couldn't compare to the anger boiling inside of him but didn't interrupt. "The Boy-Who-Lived. Come to die."

"If I must," said boy inclined his head forward and communicated all his emotions with his bright green eyes. Though his magic stated his loathing tenfold, increasing in brightness and filling the air between them with a hum of power. "But if anyone dies tonight, it'll be _you_ , Riddle."

The nose-less dark wizard growled like an animal at the name. "Do _not_ call me that!"

"Well, it's your name, _Tom_ ," Harry taunted, a spark returning to his otherwise still abhorring eyes.

" _Avada Kedavra!"_ he roared, and the corresponding sickly green beam exploded from the end of his wand. The infamous killing curse barreled towards the fourteen-year-old, who let it come. But suddenly, not a second before it hit and took his life, Harry released the magic, the energy that had been building since the death of his friends, all aimed at utterly destroying the one who orchestrated the whole thing. He watched the cause of his death approach almost in slow motion as his magic ravaged the area around him, leaving him almost untouched, save a soft breeze. The energy swirled in a thousand colors, all bright and all powerful, and the amount was too much for his wand to handle and it shattered. The wooden shards joined the whirlwind of pure, unbridled magic around the two as the last spell You-Know-Who would ever cast found it's mark, and Harry Potter breathed his last with a sigh.

* * *

 **I'm evil, aren't I? I really am sorry for all of that! In reality, I genuinely like most (if not all) of the characters I screw with. I admit though, I have random periods after I read fics with bashing in them where I'd like to slap some of them, but 99.99% of the time I'm cool and level-headed and like them. Okay, besides from that little rant, I'd like to apologize in advance for the chapter lengths. I pretty much always write my stories in advance without clear chapters and then have to go back through and separate them. So, they're usually choppy cut-offs, weirdly fluctuating in length, or both.**

 **Lucky**


	2. Chapter 2

**A heartfelt thank you to my first followers: Sentinel951, Morli84, sexy demon neko ciel, didile, Bigbaz, sourstrawberries, crazy dragon ninja, hitomi-tama, and Ybarra87. Also, to the first people to favorite this story, Little Green Faerie of Doom, Tired-Paws, LunarRoseFox, and The Ginnger Ninja. And another thanks to Sentinel951 and the guest (Hi, Ania!) for the reviews that made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside! I might be overreacting, but it's my first time and I couldn't stop smiling for around ten minutes after I got the notifications!**

 **To Reithandina (another review, thank you!), yeah, something like that, but it might change as I continue writing. Like, I was thinking (and then forgot to put this in the original A/N) that if I want all the stuff that happens in the books to happen, then maybe I should condense it a bit if I want Harry and Peter to start out at age fourteen. So, I guess, _here's a bit of an update: let's pretend he still goes to school at around age 10 and all the crazy from the books just happens in 4-ish years instead of 6-ish years._ Oi vae, poor Harry never catches a break.**

 **This story will (probably) get updated once or twice a week, I'll try to keep it to twice unless there's an unknown factor that pops up to ruin my schedule. Reviews will typically be responded to at the end, after the A/N, in the rest of the chapters. I'll try my best to answer and hold myself to these promises!**

 **Sorry to keep you from reading!**

 **Lucky**

* * *

Chapter Two: Death Is Not A Man

He blinked. Once. Twice. He could hardly believe that he was blinking. He was supposed to be dead. That was the plan! He didn't think dead people could blink. Harry lifted his head from where it was cradled by his folded arms and hauled himself to his feet.

The landscape around him was white, pure and only white so that he couldn't even tell where the floor – because he had to be standing on something – ended and the walls began. Were there walls? He couldn't tell. A probing hand felt his glasses still perched on his nose, though brilliantly askew and hindered by a messy lock of raven hair dropping down in front of his eyes. Harry's sharp eyes caught the small movement from the corner of his vision and he watched with interest as the room, place, whatever he was in took shape, resembling a train station… King's Cross!

He barely caught half a second's view of the two figures in the station before it all began to fade to grey. However, they stood burned into his retinas. An image of his old, deceased headmaster, Dumbledore, and a small, slimy _thing_ curled up in the corner. The Dumbledore… ghost, perhaps? … nodded only once before disappearing into the grey as it darkened from light to dark, from dark to black. And then Harry was still at King's Cross, but now everything was the deepest black he suspected he would ever see. It was like the white, so complete that he couldn't see if there were walls, where they began, if that was the sky or the roof. King's Cross station stood freely and void of life in the night-dark, save Harry himself, intent on making him feel as alone as possible.

But he was used to that.

And when a woman appeared from nowhere with nary the telltale crack of apparition? Well, even after all his years in the wizarding world, he wasn't used to that. So, he jumped and stumbled back, almost falling back onto his butt from tripping over his own feet. The woman watched with a small smile and an eyebrow quirked in amusement. She was in no hurry.

Harry took his own time to study her, the only other person here… if she was a person. He still wasn't sure if he was dead or not. This lady, though, could be. Her milk-white skin stood out in stark contrast to their surroundings and her paleness almost reminded him of Voldemort, but his was only sickly while hers was somehow natural over her body. Her hair hung short and black, cropped at chin length with triangular bangs, the same ebony color as the eyes that pierced him with a curious and somehow understanding gaze. The lady's somewhat curvy figure was highlighted by a short, black lace pencil dress, but the dark hooded cloak that billowed around her threw him off a bit. That and the fact that she was holding an upright silver scythe that was slightly taller than she was and glinted brightly with the connector chain on her cloak in the non-existent light. Which didn't make much sense.

"Hello, Harry James Potter," she greeted with a tilt of her head.

"Um, hey," he replied eloquently. "I- you already know my name. Are you Death?"

"Yes."

"Oh, uh… cool." Harry stared at her with wide eyes behind his round glasses for a few awkward moments. The now-dubbed Death looked right back at him, seeming to do her own once-over of the boy, before cracking a smile that completely discarded the previous tense atmosphere.

"Well, now that introductions are out of the way," Death began, waving a hand to the side, "would you like to sit down? You've had quite the… not day… life?" A light grey couch popped into existence to Harry's right, which the entity immediately plopped down on and patted the cushion beside her. "Don't be shy. Where's that Gryffindor courage?"

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously but shrugged and mumbled, "I was almost Slytherin, you know." Sitting down next to her, he allowed himself to relax a bit into the cushy seat, leaning his head back and up at the infinite black. The wizard sighed in a way that was far too old for his actual age. "So, I'm dead and you're Death. Did I at least drag Riddle down with me?"

She nodded sympathetically. "Yes, to it all. Tom Riddle, your Lord _Voldemort_ , died exactly one second after you did. Impeccable timing, I must say."

"Thanks." It wasn't really surprising, the fact that he was dead. How else could he meet with Death? It was part of the plan, anyway. For Voldemort to die, he had to first. And not even because of the stupid prophecy, just because the idiot fooled around with the Dark Arts too much and accidently shoved a piece of his soul into Harry. Real Dark Lord material right here guys. "Why did you want to see me? Assuming you don't meet with every sad little boy that dies."

"No," the ethereal Death laughed. Death laughed. That was a weird notion. "You are special."

"Bloody brilliant," came the sarcastic response.

"Oh, not because of the whole 'Boy-Who-Lived' thing," she chuckled again, putting honest-to-Merlin air-quotes around his title. "Let me tell you, that was _ridiculous_. The fact that they believed a one-year-old human child to defeat Voldemort by himself? Preposterous."

" _Thank_ you!" Harry exclaimed and threw his arms in the air. "Did no one remember it was my parents' spells and love, not me? But, truly, why am I here? Not that you aren't good company, ma'am, but I'm hoping this has nothing to do with your Hallows."

"Thank you, Harry," she sighed. "To put aside your worry, no, this is not about the Deathly Hallows. The 'Master of Death' mythos was just that, a myth. Though the cloak, stone, and wand did hold power, they were never the key. Simply legends spun by bragging _Peverell's_ and eager wizards." The younger blew out a relieved breath, though not failing to notice how Death's age seemed to catch up with her with those words. They must have caused her a great deal of trouble and she'd probably seen much, seeing as Death was always there and always would be, from before the beginning to after the end.

"Did you want them back?"

"No, they were next to nothing."

"What do you mean?"

"The Invisibility Cloak was one of my old robes from when I was younger and more… mischievous. The Resurrection Stone used to be a way I could locate lost souls that were having a hard time getting to the Afterlife before I found out I didn't need a focus point. The Elder Wand was just a stick I used to annoy Fate with." Harry was having a hard time not picturing Death as one of the Marauders, or as a first-year Hogwarts student, though he was stuck on the idea of Death being younger, one that both confused him and made him wonder how Death's aging process worked. Despite popular opinion, he wasn't entirely clueless. When you lived with Hermione, you learned a thing or two about… well, everything.

"I'm not sure how that stick ended up working as a wand," she continued. "Maybe Fate hit it when she meant to hit me? I did used to annoy him quite a bit." He nodded absently, now quite sure Death would've been a good Marauder, and tried to digest the fact that Fate was apparently genderfluid. Sitting up from his lounging position and blinking a few times, his brain managed to fit it all in with his personal world of weird. It wasn't the most far-fetched thing. The three brothers had though Death was a man and he'd long since made his peace with the homosexual and transgender people at Hogwarts, who in turn helped him through a number of his own personal dilemmas. Including the time when he was having a sort of embarrassing existential crisis and found out he was bi. That was… interesting. He shook himself out of his thoughts with a twitch of his head and realized they'd been sitting in silence for more than a few seconds.

"Sorry," Harry apologized unnecessarily as Death waved it off. "We've gotten off topic."

"You are fine," she dismissed with a shining smile. "I rarely get anyone to talk to. I've enjoyed this." He blushed under the compliment before inquiring once again why she wished to see him. Death responded with a weary sigh. "I've seen much in my long life. Death is present everywhere, be it this world or another."

"There are _other worlds_?!" he interrupted excitedly before squeezing his lips back shut. "Sorry. Continue."

And Death did, in an amused tone. "I have seen much good and much bad, much joy and much suffering. And I have done my duty through it all. I have escorted the souls whose time it is to pass on to the Afterlife. But I _only_ take the souls whose time it _really_ is." She fixed him with those black orbs and for the first time, Harry could see how powerful this being truly was. How infinite Death was. "Harry Potter, it is not your time."

" _Why?_ " The word was so small, so soft, that it was barely heard, even in the absolute silence the void-like area still held. He wanted to see his friends again. And he sure as heck didn't want to go back there, where all he would see was misplaced fame and credit, hate for things he didn't do, and reminders of his dead loved ones. The press was a fickle thing. Death placed a comforting hand on his back as he leaned forward on the edge of his cushion.

"It is not your time and I am sorry," she whispered to him. "I would not wish any of this on anyone. Know this. I am sorry. But there are rules even _I_ must follow." Who knew Death could be so warm?

"Then it's not your fault."

She seemed to perk up a bit, if that was possible. "But you have a choice. That is why you are here." Harry remained in the same position, though he tilted his head curiously at the offer. "You can go back—" This elicited an almost inaudible groan from the Potter boy, which she smiled softly at. "—or you can go somewhere _else_."

His head whipped up like a shot. "What?"

"Another world," the woman told him calmly. "One without wizards, without magic. You would be… unique."

"Aren't I always." It was a resigned statement, not a question, but he said it with a smirk, his usual attitude coming back. For once, he was getting something he wanted. A fresh start. He could remember Luna's words to him: "Live a better life. For yourself." The smirk grew into a shaky smile at the thought of a new life, one with no prophecy, where he could choose for himself, where he might find happiness somehow. "Tell… tell me more about this new world."

"The world," Death said, slightly more professional now, informing him of another universe, "has its own problems."

" _Everywhere_ has problems."

"True," she giggled and composed herself. "But this world's problems are… different. Not entirely unique, but they are different, and you may get involved. It is your choice. If you go, you could even choose to ignore those problems if you wish."

"Unlikely," Harry let out his own laugh. "I have a saving people thing."

They chuckled together. "That you do."

"I want to go," he decided, sitting up straight. "I want to start something new." Death stood elegantly and he with her, just realizing that her sickle had been standing upright on its own by the side of the couch the whole time. Oh.

"I will warn you. You will not have your wand and this world doesn't have the materials for a wand or potion-brewing."

Harry only smirked. "Wandless magic, then. How do you think I survived Horcrux hunting?" Death smiled, a big smile as the boy she'd watched grow up, the boy she'd seen crushed physically and emotionally by his world, returned in defiance of everything. She'd liked this boy since he had miraculously survived Voldemort's attack on his house. He was a survivor.

"Are you ready?"

"I'm ready." And then he knew darkness once more.

* * *

 **Be honest in the reviews. Tell me what you thought of my version of Death. I thought making her a girl would be entertaining, but I didn't really want her to be cold and distant… or too familiar. I'm not sure what I was going for other than a little mysterious and mostly just understanding/exasperated with the multiverse's collection of idiots. I think it went well… you tell me. And yeah, I changed it just a bit so that Harry does wandless magic. I'm lazy like that.**

 **Lucky**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm so sorry! I messed up my schedule already! Sorry! But here's an update!**

 **Lucky**

* * *

Chapter Three: When Names Are Confusing And Harry Hates Bullies

When the light came back, and he opened his eyes, the first thing he realized was that he was awfully low to the ground, but that thought flew fleetly from his head when he saw perhaps his least favorite thing before him. A large, blonde teenager in a letterman jacket stood over another, significantly smaller teen with brown hair and a black backpack. As he watched, the blonde grabbed the brunet, who was sprawled on the ground and only held up by the bigger's grip on his white undershirt, and slammed his fist down on his nose, causing a trail of red to run down his face.

Harry opened his mouth to yell something at the blonde before pausing when he saw something reflected in the rubbish can lid that leaned against its counterpart. What he saw did not belong where there should've been a fourteen-year-old with glasses. Staring back at him was a _cat_. A black cat with intelligent bright green eyes and a lightning bolt shaped notch in its right ear. As Harry closed his mouth, the cat did too, hiding sharp little teeth and a rough pink tongue. As weird as it was, he figured it out immediately. Somewhere along the lines of him starting anew in another world, Death had forgotten to mention that she was going to turn him into a _cat_. He sighed, as much as a cat can sigh, and turned his attention to the pair of boys, who were now in the middle of a conversation with the skinny brown-haired kid raised off the ground and pressed against the alley wall.

"- leave the little guy alone, Flash, he didn't do anything to you!" Harry had tuned in partway through the sentence and could only assume that the "Flash" kid was planning on doing something to the cat – him. What kind of a name was _Flash_ anyway? Or what exactly did he do to get that nickname? Harry hoped it wasn't what he was thinking.

"Wish you still wore your nerd glasses, Puny Parker," Flash growled in the now-named "Parker's" face. "Woulda liked to break 'em."

"And _this_ is why I wear contacts," he murmured to himself, only to be shoved into the wall painfully. Harry decided he'd seen enough. Thanking Death for skipping the part where he stumbled over his own four legs, he leaped nimbly from his place in the corner to the top of a rubbish receptacle to Flash's head. The boy-turned-cat then proceeded to hang on for dear life as the bully let go of "Parker" and chose to instead flail around with Harry on his head, clawing and hissing at him.

"Ack! Get this crazy thing offa me!" he screamed as Harry ran his sharp claws down the back of his jacket, effectively tearing it to shreds. He then clambered back up Flash like a jungle gym, managed to get to the top of his head, and jumped gracefully to the ground as the large boy bore a stumbling retreat out of the back-alley, looking as smug as possible in his new form. He hissed once more at the scratched boy before getting up from his seat on the pavement and padding towards the other, who was leaning up against the wall with a tired smile on his face. "Parker" wiped the trail of blood from his nose and glanced at it on his finger before smearing it unnoticeably on his jeans.

 **(A/N: So sorry to interrupt my story, I really try not to do any of this, ever, but I have to this time. Okay, so since Harry is a cat, he can't really talk, so convos are going to be very one-sided. Meaning I'll be indenting when it's really the same person talking. Like that one time with Death. That I forgot about. So, just pay close attention. – Lucky)**

"You won't claw my face off, right?" he asked jokingly, still smiling from his position. He seemed far too nonchalant and happy for someone who just got beat up. Harry stood next to him, though much shorter and on four furry legs, and let out a satisfied purr. "O _kay_. Who would've though Flash would be scared of cats?" "Parker" glanced down with a more mischievous smile and stage-whispered, "You know his real name is _Eugene_? Eugene Thompson."

He laughed, and Harry joined him with a chuffing noise, the closest he could get. He liked this boy. They were a lot alike, not that "Parker" would know it. Both picked on, formerly glasses-wearing, and on the scrawny side. So, he sat and laid his front paws on the high schooler's leg as a cushion for his head like all cats do, causing him to look down in surprise. "You're surprisingly friendly for a street cat. You've been alone for a while, haven't you?"

Figuratively at least.

"But you're a fighter." He had no idea how true that was as he fingered the lightning notch in Harry's ear and got a rumbling purr in return.

It felt good.

"Well, you know Flash now, even if he is a jerk."

He growled in agreement before allowing him to continue.

"I'm Peter Parker. Or as Flash loves to call me, Puny Parker. Valedictorian of Midtown High, nerd extraordinaire, and bane of Flash's existence, as you so _obviously_ can tell."

The little nose twitched as the cat let out a snort at the sarcasm.

"That obvious? Yeah, Flash _really_ doesn't like me. I don't like him much either." Harry let out a quiet yawn and they both glanced at the elongating shadows as their stomachs growled loudly in tandem. Peter braced a hand against the wall and groped his way to his feet, Harry dislodging himself from his comfortable spot reluctantly.

Pointed ears caught the brunet muttering to himself about his mental health, talking to cats, and that he was crazy anyway while he hopped from rubbish can to Dumpster and walked along the edge until it ran out a foot before the end of the alley. The person he was following had balked at the entrance to the rest of the city, spinning on his heel with a huge smile on his face.

The black kit – because he wasn't a kitten, no matter _how_ human age looked on a cat – cocked his head, eying him curiously, as Peter hurriedly came back and started talking in a blur. "Okay, you're too nice to be out on the street, but I really don't have much time before I have to get back home before Aunt May lectures me about the dangers of the city and how I could get hurt," he said with a laugh at the end, seeming to find something about that ironic. "So, you're coming with me and I'm going to see if my aunt will let me have a cat and you're going to have to be extra-cute."

Before Harry could even begin to comprehend the first sentence, he was scooped up off the tall, metal container with a loud meow. Waving his little legs in panic, Peter laughing at his troubles, he was suddenly, but gently, placed in the open backpack that his new friend swung back on less roughly than usual. Despite his brief panic, he couldn't help but burrow in until only his head and front paws peaked out, purring and mewing at the people they passed.

Something about this teenager simply felt right and safe, which he attributed to a combination of approval from Death and his own honed instincts. After a while, his ride began bouncing, causing him to let out an involuntary yowl before he realized Peter was just jogging and he settled all the way inside his bag-cave. Inside, he could hear the muffled sound of keys clicking and a door swinging open, a warm greeting from a lady he couldn't see.

"Peter, dear, where have you been?" the voice enveloped him with a cozy, familial feeling that he used to associate with Mrs. Weasley.

The thought hit him like a train, as what had happened – to him, at least – less than a day ago. Harry immediately felt guilty. Here he was, happily riding along with an admittedly cute boy and maybe getting a new home, and they had _died_ because of _him_.

Why did they die and not him? Why did _he_ get the second chance? Death's words came back to him, though not comforting,

 _I only take the souls whose time it really is. Harry Potter, it is not your time_.

So, it was their time? That didn't make him feel better at all.

But his mind wandered, and he could only imagine the tongue-lashing they would give him for denying himself his chance for a true home. He smiled and could almost hear Hermione complaining about wasting his one good opportunity and trying to back it up by saying it was illogical before Ron started berating him for thinking they'd blame them. Then he'd probably get his hair even more ruffled than usual by half-a-dozen people, including Sirius in particular. Maybe it wasn't so bad… he was still sad, indescribably so, but now there was more nostalgia than anger or blame.

"Peter, how about you put your bag down and come eat? You must be starving!" That must be the Aunt May Peter had talked about. The one that would lecture him if he wasn't home in time. She really did sound like Mrs. Weasley.

"Yeah, I'm coming," Peter called back as he carefully leaned the pack – and Harry's hideaway – up against a wall and gave the cat the one-minute finger. He stood and turned at the same time, clasping his hands behind his back and crossing his fingers with a conspiratorial wink at Harry. "I have someth- _ooone_ I want you to meet."

"Oh, I'd love to meet one of your little school friends," the woman in the kitchen agreed. He could see her brown hair twisted up on her head with silver hairs beginning to grow in and smile lines around her eyes when she turned around to face her nephew.

Peter groaned good-naturedly. "Aunt May, I'm not in second grade anymore. But…" He abruptly wheeled around and dipped down to pick Harry up, who had figured out by now to just roll with it. The kit went limp until the arms cradled him properly, then snuggling down contently up against the toasty and surprisingly firm chest. He wasn't sure what season it was here, but there had been a chill in the air when they were in the alleyway. "Meet this little guy."

"Aww," Aunt May cooed straightaway while reaching out to scratch Harry's back. "Where'd this little cutie come from?" Beneath her fingers, the cat trembled with a smug purr.

"I… found him in an alley," he hedged. "He's a very friendly little ball of fluff, so I thought we might give him a home?" Harry was slightly offended at being called a "ball of fluff" and maybe dug his claws in a little more than necessary when leaping onto the counter from Peter's arms. Not enough to pierce skin, but enough to prick him and for Harry to chuff at his reaction as he bouncily jaunted along the counter. Aunt May had a thinking face on, even as she watched the kit explore the kitchen from the height of the counter.

"I don't see why not," she finally gave in. "As long as he doesn't claw anything or anyone or do his business anywhere other than outside." Harry was now _very_ offended and managed to convey that in the look he gave Peter, who almost laughed aloud at how put off the cat looked, at least to him. He was also hungry, sniffing at the edge of a short milk glass in the hope that they'd get the hint, or at least not want him to actually drink it. "Oh, I'll get him some milk. That's what cats like, right? I can pick up something more suited to a cat tomorrow at the store." Perfect. Though he was skeptical of the cat food idea… eh, he'd probably eaten worse at some point.

"Awesome! Thanks, Aunt May!" Peter accepted as he was already turning to run upstairs and chuck his backpack in his room. They heard a thunk, some rustling, then Peter's socked feet taking stairs two at a time. May rolled her eyes and smiled at Harry before finishing up his saucer of milk, which he lapped up gratefully as the two humans began their dinner. It was a nice affair, homey and comfortable, yet not as loud as a Weasley dinner.

Peter's aunt would ask about his day, to which Peter himself would go off on a ramble about some such science or something silly one of his classmates did before he asked the same question in turn. Harry finished his milk dinner, yawning as wide as he could as he settled down with a warm and full belly. He noted that Peter had picked him up again and purred his thanks as he was brought upstairs to somewhere that was probably Peter's room.

There was a grey-blue comforter bundled at the foot of a twin bed on one side and an old roll-top desk with its top rolled up next to a dresser on the opposite side of the small room. The last two walls were occupied by a window and a closet, which was hanging open, and every open space had something sitting on it. A computer whirred even though it was closed on the desk, papers that looked like schoolwork and some that didn't strewn about it, bits and pieces of various projects decorated a small shelf hanging on the wall. Other than the unmade bed and the nerd-style mess, the room was orderly, much more orderly than Harry's would've been had he had an actual bedroom.

Now very awake and very curious, the kit hopped carefully from the teenager's arms and began poking his twitching nose around the room. He slid a bit on the papers when he got to the desk, ending up riding them to the end and springing up to the dresser with a meow. He'd meant to do that. Peter was not as sure and chuckled a bit before stepping in front of his space on the dresser before he could go explore the closet.

"It's not much, but it's home," he said as if he needed to explain himself. "Aunt May's taken care of me since Mom and Dad died when I was six, or something. She's the greatest." Harry blinked in shock as he took in the new information. They really were similar. Though Peter's aunt was much, much nicer than Petunia could ever have been.

The boy went on, "I think I can get you a bed sometime, or you can just share mine…" Harry was struggling to contain whatever the cat equivalent of a blush was, though it was sure to be suspicious, by now. Although he was stuck as a cat, he was still very much a teenaged boy and he was still very much bi. And Peter was a boy. One that he was quickly realizing was rather cute.

So, he used Peter's head as a spring-board and launched into the crumpled blanket with a joyful yowl, in his mind a worthy distraction from the topic. The brunet let out a surprised noise and seemed to be reconsidering his reasons for talking to the kit like a human. "I'll find you your own blanket later, so you don't steal mine," Peter teased regardless, then paused, deep in a thought. "You need a name!"

Black ears poked out of where Harry was making himself cozy, followed by an inquisitive _mrowr_. He had a name… though now that he pondered it, that name had been the source of most of his life problems. A new name wouldn't be too bad, provided Peter valued his fingers and didn't name him "Fluffy" or something. That'd be just his luck.

Peter wondered aloud in the background via a series of mutters to himself. "Aha!" he exclaimed suddenly, and Harry let out the same curious sound as before. "Hiro!" He plopped himself down on his knees in front of Harry, apparently satisfied, and laid his chin on his folded arms so that they were eye-to-eye. The furry kit looked at him with an obvious " _why?_ " expression on his face.

"Well, for once, you saved me earlier." Harry-Hiro gained a smug look and puffed up his chest. "But 'Hero' with-an-e is too demanding, you're a cat, you don't need any expectations."

He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be insulted or thankful at this point.

"And there's this Disney movie I really like and the main character – whose name is Hiro – is a boy genius with a marshmallow robot."

Hiro decided on the latter now.

"So, Hiro, you've got a new home, a new name, and new owner!" The adopted animal's eyes glittered with mirth and narrowed as he darted out a single claw, lightning-fast, and poked his "owner" on the nose, though not enough to draw blood. "Ack! Okay, okay! I don't own you!" This, Hiro thought with an internal laugh, was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

* * *

 **Harry is a cat… oh joy. But I really think he's adorable. Also, Harry is no longer Harry, as you've no doubt noticed. Peter named him Hiro and he grudgingly admitted he liked it. So, he's Hiro now. There's a lot on this chapter. Hiro has a home and a family and maybe something more than a new friend. This is gonna be good. But credit where credit's due. There were 3 great authors who came up with this before me and these are their stories:**

 **"Bruja" by sakurademonalchemist**

 **"Master of Death" by Misaki June**

 **and the aptly named "Wizard Kitty" by I. H. Scribe.**

 **I know how similar it seems to some of these if you've read them, and I promise I wasn't trying to steal anything. I actually wrote this,** ** _then_** **read these stories.**

 **Lucky**

 **P.S. You got the Big Hero 6 reference, right?**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Superheroes? In New York? Gimme A Break…

*TIME SKIP: ONE WEEK LATER* ( **A/N: because Hiro really needs to learn some stuff 'bout this world – Lucky)**

Hiro was starting to get into the swing of things in this world. Peter's annoying and severely beat-up alarm clock would ring, Peter would stumble around looking for clothes while Hiro would slink rather unsteadily down to the kitchen for breakfast. Even cats weren't immune to that thing they call morning.

Aunt May would set out his breakfast, which wasn't exactly cat food, but milk and a little dish of fish or meat from a can with an embarrassing picture of a cat on it. Hiro would send that cat a disturbed or disappointed look each morning for disgracing the species and/or being high on something, because cats weren't supposed to be _that_ wide-eyed and smiley. The wonderful lady would then go out to her workplace after pointing Peter towards the cabinet of cereal, they would eat breakfast, and Peter would wave 'bye while jogging to catch the bus.

Hiro then had free roam of the house for the rest of the day until May would pull up from work and Peter would arrive later from whatever after-school activity, Hiro assumed, he had. Dinner, friendly chatting, etc., then bedtime, where he had discovered a brilliantly cushy pillow in the corner of the upstairs hallway chair to sprawl out on. And repeat.

It was the best time of his life, when he didn't have anything to agonize over or anybody looking to him for solutions to problems the adults of the world _should've_ been handling. After a couple days of just enjoying this feeling, Hiro had started slyly reading whichever book Peter had laying about in his room, which was insanely easy because the boy left them laying open all over the place and seemed to bring new ones home every few days from the library or school. All he had to do was carefully hook each page to turn it and remember which page Peter was on, even if Peter himself had forgotten.

Today, though, his sensitive ears caught the telltale squeak and failed prevention of a closing clang that told him Peter was home early, before May. He hastily nosed the novel back to the original page to was on – or close to it – seconds before the doorway was filled with Peter, Peter's bag, and Peter's olive-ish dark green jacket with the grey hood hung over an arm.

"Hey, Hiro!" he greeted enthusiastically as always. "Aunt May's out of town with a friend of hers for tonight, won't be back 'til tomorrow afternoon." That explained that. But what made this day any different from last week, when Peter was gone for a couple hours every day after school? He thought that he had clubs or something all the time from what was implied, though not directly mentioned, around the house. Academic Decathlon, tutoring, or something. Maybe there just wasn't a meeting or session today?

"I thought I'd drop my backpack here first, so I don't have to stow it somewhere. That time with the Dumpster was a stinky disaster." Peter grimaced at the memory as he dropped his bag with the heavy thud of schoolbooks by the headboard of his bed. Hiro was now very interested in whatever came to explain this.

He bounced his way from the ground to the mattress up to the footboard and watched his not-owner happily fling open one of the closet doors, grabbing something black and red to toss on the bed, nearly clipping Hiro's ear when he let out an annoyed mew. The boy gave him an appropriately apologetic glance, but he was more interested in sniffing the costume – because it looked like something out of Comic-Con.

The parts were all in a disorganized, spread-out pile of colors and cloth. Peter began systematically pulling it on in a rapid fashion that suggested he'd done this a hundred times before, yanking things out from under Hiro's nose and thoroughly irritating him. There was a pair of tight black jeans with dark, flexible fabric kneepads and tall red Converse whose white trim had seen better days, but still maintained its color. Black fingerless biker-gloves up his forearms, bug-eye goggles with reflective yellow-tinted lenses, a lower half-mask kerchief that was red with a black spiderweb pattern on it. The multicolored hoodie somehow rounded it all out. Blue sides and underarms, black on the chest, back, and the back of the hood and abdomen, a white spider emblem on the chest and back, red with the same black web design on the hood and arms, plus a red elastic lining around the bottom. But it somehow all fit and actually looked pretty wicked, if Hiro did say so himself, when Peter pulled the hood up around his brown hair.

The teen looked over at his cat with a wide smile, having not yet pulled the mask up, and spread his arms in a "Ta-da!" motion. "What do you think?"

Hiro flopped his head to the side, his left ear folded forwards a bit, in an unintentionally adorable maneuver while studying him. "I mean, it's not the best," Peter went on, "but I have a budget and it works for a teen superhero." The last words caused both pointed ears to perk up in surprise. A _superhero?_

Oh, boy, Death _really_ understated this world's problems, didn't she?

"And whatever you hear, I swear, I did _not_ choose the name 'Spider-man.' That was the press' fault," he finished with a double-handed swipe in an X in front of his chest and then moving over to the window. The fingers that poked through his gloves fiddled with the window lock for a second before sliding the sash up by placing his fingers on the glass pane itself, which explained why the window constantly had prints all over it, and not from Hiro's nose. Most of the time.

"I'll see you 'round dinnertime, 'kay? Okay!" With that, the superhero swung out the window feet-first, which unfortunately closed before Hiro could get out, and disappeared with a light _thwip_ noise. The closing of the window seemed to snap the kit out of his shocked trance and the former human shot down the stairs muttering to himself, though it came out as a series of quiet growls, hisses, and meows had anyone been listening.

Something about stupid heroic friends that were going to get their stupid selves hurt. Peter's actions hit a little too close to home for Hiro only a week after Ron… why did he pick the people most likely to give him heart problems as friends?

The first night he was here, he'd basically initiated a nightlong vigil for everyone who died and been a little too mopey the following day than was probably normal for a cat. He wasn't sure he could handle losing anybody else this soon.

So, if he went straight to the couch and pawed at the "ON" button for the television so that he could watch Pe- uh, _Spider-man_ , and make sure he wasn't hurt, cut him some slack. At least the wizard could _use_ the muggle technology, Harry had lived with the Dursleys for most of his life and Hiro kept a careful watch over Peter and Aunt May's shoulders whenever they would use modern tech. The latter was proficient with all the kitchen machineries and the former was clearly a major computer geek, that was clear after even a week.

With the TV now on, and tuned into a 24-hour news station, he was instantly hit with a culture shock of superhero stuff. The stories ranged from a technological, flying Gryffindor suit operated by a billionaire to a Norse god in the middle of the New Mexican desert to – finally – reports of Spider-man on what was evidently a daily patrol. Those were the most common, the Norse incident from a while back and "Iron Man" only appearing on the way to one of the buildings its pilot – Tony Stark, right – owned. Hiro watched "Spidey," as the stations and people seemed fond of calling him, leave a mugger strung upside-down on a light-pole by what seemed to be spider-webs, crawl up a wall after cocooning a bank robber, and catch a car with his bloody bare hands.

He studied everything his eyes caught, managing to catalogue many of Spider-man's powers from the news. Increased strength, speed, agility, some weird sticky thing, seemingly enhanced senses, seeing as he completely changed directions to go after a sound the camera crew didn't get and beat up a purse snatcher, but Hiro remembered the glinting metal devices almost hidden on his wrists and correctly assumed that's where the spider-silk came from. If he ever got out of this form, he'd demand a full explanation of this… after slapping, hugging, or doing both to the brunet.

* * *

 **Yeah, Death left out a bit more than a little. And I will admit to borrowing Stan Lee's line for the title of this one. RIP, dude. You were the absolute best. I just wanted to honor that guy's genius.**

 **Anyways, Hiro's rather overprotective after everyone he loved pretty much just died. There's no way he's letting his kind-of crush get hurt. And I know he's recovered sort of fast, but that was necessary for moving along with my storyline, plus he's been through a lot at a young age. He's not new to any of this and, as sad as it is, is almost used to it and knows how to handle it.**

 **To hitomi-tama: First of all, you're welcome, I'm glad you like my story enough to continue reading. Two, I wasn't planning on it… but things may change. So, I'm not exactly sure, you'll have to wait and see!**

 **To Guest: Thank you! =)**

 **Lucky**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: In Which Peter Makes A Confession and Hiro Insults the Closet

*TIME SKIP: ONE MONTH AND THREE WEEKS LATER* ( **A/N: i.e., two months after Harry's arrival. I'm assuming there's four weeks to the month, whichever month this is… I didn't have one in mind. – Lucky)**

True to his old habits, Hiro still liked perching in the highest place he could find, which was a lot easier now that he was a cat, and no one looked twice at him when he climbed the furniture. But when Peter stumbled into his room with injuries and an exhausted expression on his face, he lithely made his way down from where he had been working on his balance on top of the headboard post to meow at him from the bed. The teenager himself chose instead to sit down, hard, on the thin carpet and look Hiro wearily in the eyes, chocolate brown meeting brilliant green.

He had a split lip he'd managed to slip past Aunt May and a small bruise on his cheek. Knowing Peter, it had probably been explained away as falling down the stairs. "Do… are you ever… have you ever just had a confusing day?" he stumbled over the question, round doe eyes looking at Hiro with a lost feeling. "Not bad, just… _confusing_." His eyebrows drew together, wrinkling his forehead, and Hiro was glad that the woman of the house had called up that they needed eggs and she was driving to the store.

Some things, as he knew perhaps _too_ well, were just between two people. Or, in this case, one person and a wizard-turned-cat. Even though Peter had no clue about Hiro's past life as Harry – and Hiro wasn't going out of his way to communicate that – he'd recognized an unusually intelligent kit and tended to talk to him as if he was a small, four-legged, furry person.

"'Cause I just had a _really_ confusing day," the boy continued. He paused. "I'm gonna make a list."

Hiro almost groaned. His "owner" was one of the most ridiculously organized people he'd ever met when it came to certain things. Not including his room. But his backpack was full of color-coded notecards and individual plastic portfolios for each class. Peter also seemed to think that lists solved everything, which Hiro could openly admit made some things easier, but made the phrase "I'm going to make a list" a _very_ familiar one.

Shifting positions, Peter leaned his elbows forward to prop against his knees, a stretch for anyone who wasn't a dancer, a gymnast, or Spider-man. "I mean, there was a lab in science, which was great, but my _wonderful_ partner was afraid of the fake germ solution, so I did it."

Normal.

"Spent lunch in the library, eating in the corner, hiding from the librarians."

Sadly, normal. Hiro made a note to himself to crash Peter's lunch break sometime.

"Back to class, and I… I overheard this conversation. Flash and one of the Goonies, I don't know, Kong? King? Anyway, they talk loud and seem to think no one can hear them." That was typical for the arrogant jock-types, he knew, but something else seemed to be bothering the teen. He hadn't seen him around anybody other than his aunt and Hiro himself, but he wasn't usually this dubious or shaken. Well, perhaps not _too_ shaken, he wasn't hyperventilating or anything, just like he made some big discovery.

The cat did his best to offer silent support and an understanding presence through his intrigue. "They… were talking about these girls. And I know these girls, they're popular, pretty, bubbly, and air-heads sometimes."

A small snort accompanied the observation. Hiro was the only one he'd say stuff like that around, and the black animal knew it.

"They kept saying _stuff_ … stuff 'bout how one was hot and the other was cute, dates, icky dirty junk about knocking one of them up…" Both fourteen-year-olds grimaced. "… and I was sitting there, and I _really_ was trying to ignore them and be disgusted at the same time, which meant I was thinking and just realized that – well, I've never been like that." Peter stopped for a breath and glanced at – what he considered to be – his pet.

The look he got conveyed a message clearly: " _So?_ "

Leaning back, he found himself laying on top of his jacket, arms stretched up in such a way that his white shirt – which had seen better, more _white_ , days – rode up and exposed a sliver of skin above his jeans. Hiro knew his eyes were lingering, so chose the better option of bounding down to join him and laying like a dark, fuzzy log between where his arm had come to rest and his abdomen. He looked up with virescent irises. "I've never been like that, like them, even before the stupid spider. People'd talk about crushes and kissing girls, I'd just nod and go along with it whenever they rarely included me. But it never appealed to me."

This was starting to sound familiar to Hiro. Not exactly, but similar enough to his experience. Abruptly, he pushed himself to his feet and got up with a bit of a skip in his step onto Peter's chest, laying there curled and purring reassuringly. "The girl thing," Peter reiterated. "I've never really been _attracted_ to girls… I'm gay."

His hand stroked along the ridge of fur softly, lightly as if all was well, yet the purring ball knew his fingers shivered. Despite seeming okay, despite knowing he was different in more ways than Spider-man and knowing he didn't like ladies _that_ way, saying all this aloud was taking a toll on his emotions. A toll which Peter was inclined to deny adamantly. Hiro did the one thing he knew would help and continued to provide support in the ways he could; a warm body with a soul that didn't judge inside could help more than anyone knew. Don't try to change him. Don't talk at all. Not that he could. Simply be there for him. That, he could do.

"I've… never said that out loud," the mutate partially chuckled. "It's weird the first time." The kit chuffed under his hand, which had come to rest on his back with a comforting weight. He knew what he meant. The first time Harry had admitted it to himself, then to someone else, was fresh in his mind now. Unfortunately, it was something he'd like to forget, alongside the accompanying mortified blush.

As the warm hand removed itself, he stopped his rumbling purr in slight disappointment and complied when Peter tapped his fingers to get him off his chest, leaving a fading heated spot. The two sat up straight, facing each other, though Hiro was significantly shorter due to being, you know, a cat.

"You're the only one who knows," he informed him with an odd combination of relief and sorrow. "I… think I'm going to keep it that way… I'll stay in the closet, for now." Hiro simply cocked his head silently, though an inaudible grumble broke it as his thoughts drifted to his time in his own ruddy cupboard. The closet wasn't a place for _anyone_ to live and a very bad place to kip in. But his inaction seemed to remind Peter who he was talking to. "Ah, heck. I'm talking to a cat. Not like _you'll_ tell anyone." The brunet shot the animal one last glance, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile. "Yeah, don't know if you even _understand_ me." Hiro managed an affronted countenance and stalked off, tail twitching back and forth in his amusement and annoyance.

Later that night, the midnight kit found his way into Peter's room and curled up in the discarded hoodie by the bed. Featherlight purring filled the room to any sensitive ears, waiting for Spider-man to slip back in the window, into bed.

* * *

 **Okay, so, lots of stuff and me trying too hard to use British slang when Hiro's thinking. I live in Seattle, not Surrey. So, I am very sorry if I offend any real British people out there, I'm trying my best. I get it all off the internet, so blame the Harry Potter Wiki.**

 **Anyways, Peter came out to Hiro, though that was mostly him just needing to talk and say it all out loud. As noted before, Peter doesn't know Hiro's an actual guy in a cat's body. He just needs a non-judging ear, and I know a lot of people who talk to their pets. Heck, I'll do that to any animal that sticks around me (Ex. My late dog, Max; my friends' cats and dog, Snoopy, Lillian, and Lucy; the horses at the end of our road that I used to take riding lessons on, Roo, Sheelan, and April; etc.). They don't seem to care as long as I keep stroking them. I should stop talking…**

 **Lucky (was feeling talkative when she wrote this A/N… obviously)**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Oh, The Joys of High School (AKA, Flash Is Still Afraid of Cats)

*TIME SKIP: 3 MONTHS*

Hiro knew it was kind of sad, but he was _bored._ He had an entire house to himself most of the day with a telly and half a dozen books to boot, but he'd never been one to sit still. Heck, he'd joined the Quidditch team straightaway in first year, not to mention that whole thing with the troll… and the Philosopher's Stone… Merlin, he was a pants rule-follower. But that was beside the point.

The point was that Hiro was bored out of his bloody mind. And yes, he enjoyed the television and books after years of deprivation, but he wanted to go out and _do_ something in this big world. However, what even he couldn't understand was why he thought that the "next great adventure," as some people would put in, would come from sneaking into Peter's backpack. Maybe that whole thing about cats liking bags and boxes had some merit.

Either way, now he was in there, slightly scrunched up with an extra raincoat as a cushion, on the bus to the Midtown School of Science and Technology, which was a fancy name for the high school in Midtown. He'd nudged the zipper up enough to open barely an eyehole and Peter hadn't noticed him yet, instead sitting with a whole seat to himself, but still placing his backpack roughly on his lap and cornering himself by the window. Hiro kept alternately hearing or feeling the boy's feet or fingers tapping and his leg bouncing, unable to sit still for the short time between his bus stop and the school.

Finally, the screech and hiss of the air brakes and then the door opened, letting a stampede of high schoolers out to the courtyard where they met up with friends and streamed inside. Though he had tucked his head back down, he could hear boys shouting and bumping, girls chittering like squirrels, as his ears swiveled and brushed the top of the pack. A little wave of melancholy brushed against his fur, but was quickly tamped down when he remembered whose backpack he was in. Then he had to shove a purr back inside.

The noise increased as his ride entered through the door, down the hallway, and the creak of a locker door followed the clatter of a lock when the student opened it with what sounded like some difficulty. But when the bag met the floor of the locker and the zipper began to open, Hiro started panickily searching for somewhere to hide. The inside of an organized backpack, however, doesn't have many places to hide and even less to search out in the few seconds before the zipper met the other side of the pack.

With nowhere to go, Hiro resorted to reluctantly meeting Peter's brown eyes and mewing in the cutest way possible while hoping to whatever higher power was out there that he wouldn't be kicked out – or _worse_ , shut up in the locker all day. That'd be like chaining a hippogriff to a one-foot rope! Sorry, Buckbeak…

He watched with some amusement as the teen's eyebrows met his hairline enthusiastically and he blinked a couple times before leaning over hastily. " _Hiro!_ " he hissed, though not literally, the kit thought absently, it'd be fun to meet another parselmouth. "What are you doing here?! How'd you even get in there?!" The statement confused him for a second before he remembered that the bag had actually been fully zipped before he decided to nose around inside. Oops.

"Never mind, never mind," the boy dismissed. "I can't bring you to class, I'm definitely _not_ letting you run around _or_ go outside… ah…" He glanced for a moment at the inside of the locker where he'd meanwhile hung his coat, cleverly using part of it as cover. "Yeah, _not_ the locker. You know how many rules you are making me break?!" Hiro let out a little breath he hadn't known he was holding at that idea while Peter continued his raspy whisper-rant. Too similar to the cupboard. "More than usual! And that's a lot… u – wait. _Wait!_ Empty classroom!"

Before he knew what was happening, he was enclosed again in the small, dark space, but it wasn't so bad. It smelled like Peter, and he knew that was slightly creepy, yet it made him feel safe. It helped that the sides were soft and not too solid like his old "room" back with the Dursleys. Then he was blinking in the fluorescent lighting of a classroom that was, as promised, empty of students, teachers, and everything except some extra desks and a shelf. Callused, strong hands wrapped around him easily, lifting him and placing him on the nearest desk. Peter hunched down and looked straight at him, all serious. "Do. _Not_. Leave."

Peter zipped out the door, shutting it behind him, and speed-walked down the hallway at an impressive speed, from what Hiro could hear. The cat peaked around, not seeing it as a boring, empty classroom, but an obstacle course. He smirked. Today was going to be _fun_.

Six hours later, he was exhausted and had perched on the highest bookshelf, waiting for the clock to hit whichever minute would cause the bell to ring. When it did, he was half asleep and let out a loud yowl. Thankfully, Peter wasn't around to witness that. Muffled laughter sounded from the doorway beside his seat. Spoke – well, _thought_ – too soon.

"Hi- _ro_? I know you're in here," he singsonged ridiculously. "Get down from wherever you are." Sulking just a bit, he slunk down and glared, though it was soft, at his friend. "You big baby." Hiro bristled a bit more, clawing his way up the boy's pack and settling in his hair like a furry hat. Against his will, he began purring. With his eyes closed and curled up in a fuzzy ball, the only way he could tell that Peter had started walking was the bouncing stride and the padding of sneakers on the cheap carpet flooring. It stayed quiet until they were a few meters from the door, almost home free.

A voice echoed through the hallway, accompanying heavy footsteps. " _Hey_ ," Flash drawled, "Puny Parker! Nice hat, you find it in your _aunt's_ room?" Hiro's eyes snapped open and the silent purring halted, making the blonde think for all the world that the "hat" had suddenly grown eyeballs. " _Ack!_ " The kit sat up properly, never once losing his balance, and chuffed, fixing his emerald eyes on the upright Neanderthal and narrowing them. He wasn't sure if Flash remembered him from the alley – though Peter had kept up the joke that the boy was afraid of kittens – but he was going to remember this time for the rest of his life if he tried anything.

"Ha, looks like Parker found himself a friend at last! And what a good match. Both scrawny little Dumpster weaklings that ne – _get it off, get it off, get it off!"_ The ensuing chaos, courtesy of Hiro, caused Flash to once again try to pull a black cat off his face while screaming bloody murder with Peter trying and failing not to laugh in the background. The brunet subtly signaled for Hiro to quit trying to disembowel the rain jacket and they left quickly while his back was turned, out the door and around the corner, the teenager perhaps moving a little faster than the average human. Once he deemed them safe, Peter set the cat down, who looked at him proudly while chuffing, and burst into chuckles again.

"Oh, that was _great!_ " he gasped around his humor. "I swear, are you going to do that every time? I think Flash is _already_ scarred for life!" Hiro's only reply was to continue looking overly pleased with himself, thinking of the fun he could have with the poor high schooler, though he thought of it without the "poor" part. He jolted himself out of the daydreams, hopping up from the ground to a recycling unit, back up to nest in the brown locks of the boy's hair. "But, really. If you ever sneak out again, I _will_ lock you in the laundry room." Peter swore he felt the kit gulp in dread before starting to purr once more.

* * *

 **I thoroughly enjoyed writing this chapter, though I got stuck a couple times, which I hope wasn't too obvious. A lot of this was written off-and-on through the course of Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday at school, which can make for some bumpy writing. But I think it turned out decent, right?**

 **Anyways, I love writing Flash when he's getting what he deserves. Unless it's one of those sad things where Flash's dad is abusive. Then I'm sad. But not in this 'verse. In this AU, all my bad guys are just really bad: Moldy-Shorts, Flash, Loki – oops, SPOILER ALERT!**

 **Lucky (probably did the spoiler on purpose… but you'll never know, mwahaha!)**

 **To hitomi-tama: I believe I mentioned it in the beginning A/N, but I'm not sure if I had mentioned it elsewhere. Who knows. But you're welcome, and thanks for continuing to read!**

 **To mckertis: I wasn't exactly sure how to interpret/take this… so here's a (not-so) brief explanation that may or may not be referring to your review! Yeah, Flash and his crew have kind of turned out to be all-around jerks, that was on purpose. Hiro's distraction… I'm not really sure where that came from since I never plan my stories out too far in advance. Chapter Five basically started with me saying "I need to fit Peter's coming out in here somewhere" and my brain took off. And they're teenagers. So, they're acting like teenagers. Poor Peter is just trying to figure everything out and he has enhanced senses, so sometimes he overhears things he's not meant to overhear. Other than that, IDK. I'm relatively new to all this and have no experience with romance. Sorry if none of this pertains to your review, as I said, I wasn't really sure how to take it. I'm probably just overthinking it… again. Sorry.**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Sorry for the confusion! Yes, this is the last book's final battle. I just warped canon around and made him fourteen. In my weird 'verse he goes to school at around 10-ish and all the crazy from the books is compacted into 4-ish years instead of 6-ish years. So poor Harry really never catches a break. And no, he's not losing his magic; as was briefly explained towards the end of Chapter Two, he knows wandless magic. My version of Harry is a little bit of a prodigy and I've been screwing with canon a lot because I'm lazy and don't want to have to write an original solution to that problem. Hopefully that explains that, and you keep reading. =)**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven: Reading Buddies

*TIME SKIP: 2 MONTHS*

His outing to Midtown High had sated Hiro's action addiction for a while, though he regretted not being able to accompany Peter to lunch. So, for now he was content to hang around the Parker household and read his way through the small mountain of books by the boy's bedframe. Right now, he was balanced on top of said pile with an adventure novel that – while it couldn't compare to what he'd been through – was quite good. It was about a genius kid and an underground fairy civilization that he enjoyed laughing at, both the dry wit and some of the inaccuracies.

But he still liked the fictional world and was so deep inside of it that he didn't even hear the door to Peter's room open. The open tome was on the top of the stack, open to the beginning of a chapter while Hiro laid across the opposite page. In fact, it wasn't until he heard the jangle of the student's keychains – an ironic combination of Spider-man and Star Wars trinkets – when he tossed his pack aside that he remembered he should probably stop reading and at least pretend to have been sleeping. So, he not-very-convincingly tucked his head away on his paws and crossed his metaphorical fingers that Peter hadn't seen anything suspicious.

In the meantime, while Hiro was mentally berating himself, the high schooler had snuck across the room almost silently to flop on his bed like a cooked noodle, reaching out one long arm to ruffle the top of Hiro's head. The cat's ears automatically parted, and he cracked his eyes open to glare at him as a paw batted at the leftover finger softly. If Peter hadn't happily borne witness to his attacks on Flash Thompson, he might think the cat had been declawed before.

"Hey, Hiro," he said as he scratched. "What've you been up to all day?" His eyes searched the room absently as he put off any homework he hadn't finished before, finally falling on the books underneath "his" cat, specifically the open one. Fixing on the kit, who seemed to be ignoring him guiltily, but maybe that was his imagination, Peter's mouth turned down slightly in the corner. "Didn't I close that? Wait… did I even open it in the first place?" He honestly couldn't remember anything… or what he had for breakfast that morning.

All Hiro was thinking was _crudcrudcrudcrudcrudCRUD._ He wouldn't really mind Peter finding out, he guessed, but it'd be quite awkward if he couldn't turn back to a human… yes, that was his reasoning. Nothing else, no other reason.

Peter sighed heavily as he realized that he'd actually have to do his homework before going back out for more patrolling and shook his head, dropping it from side to side slowly. He finally got up lazily, only to slump into his desk chair and pull a thick textbook up in place of the old laptop, which was taking a vacation in his backpack and – in his opinion – taking up way too much space, the clunky machine. He'd much rather be upgrading it, or, even better, completely rebuilding a new one, than doing his mandatory schoolwork, like all teenagers. Though they usually wanted to be playing sports or videogames instead of advanced computer sciences.

A couple minutes into his reading, he felt a familiar weight and warmth wiggling into a comfortable position in his already messy hair. "You're lucky that I don't care about my image," Peter told Hiro cockily. "If you did this to Flash, he'd go _berserk_. Doubt you'd want to anyway… his is almost pure grease… and he's _not_ your biggest fan." The kit chuffed his amusement atop the boy's head and settled into the perfect spot to read the history book. And Peter learned that a padded hit to the forehead meant to not turn the page quite yet.

* * *

 **Holy cannoli! You guys! This thing is up at over fifty favorites and over a hundred likes! Wow! I should say this more often, but a big thank you to all the people who favorite, follow, and review! And to those who just read! I just can't believe it! Y'all really like it that much? Even after this last chapter?**

 **Speaking of which, sorry for the short chappie, 'specially because I've been doing sort-of-one-shot-ish stuff lately as fillers before the actual storyline gets going. That should start around Chapter… um, Twelve? Maybe? Somewhere around that. But I couldn't drag this chapter out without running the risk of ruining it entirely. And nobody wants that. It was bad enough already (seriously rough XP).**

 **Anyways, I really enjoy how Hiro likes curling up on Peter's head. I think it's adorable. Also, I took it from something I actually saw in New York when I visited. There was this guy who was actually walking around with his cat on his shoulders, like he was giving it a ride.**

 **Someone tell me they got the Artemis Fowl reference. Please, I need to know that there's hope for the world.**

 **And last, but not least, in this long list of random rambles (ALLITERATIONS!), I will be gone on a trip to Whistler from Friday to Monday, so I won't be able to post or see much of anything online. Don't worry, you'll still get Chapter Eight. It'll be early this time, on Thursday, and I'll be sure to get back to posting the Tuesday right after I'm back. I promise I won't abandon you guys!**

 **Now I should really stop talking. This A/N must be half the length of this chapter by now!**

 **Lucky**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: I'm glad! I should be thanking you for reading and reviewing!**

 **To xiu: It's awesome that you like my writing! Of course I'm not planning on stopping anytime soon! I usually update on Tuesdays and Fridays unless something comes up. In that case, I'll try to tell you guys in advance, like this time.**

 **To Silvermane1: You just keep on going, don't you? I swear, there's a review from you every chapter! Not that there's anything at all wrong with that, it really warms my heart. So, thank you.**

 **To EnigmaEric: Thank you! It's definitely an interesting juxtaposition to write with the peaceful/stressful thing that's happening. It can also be strange/challenging to write a character who can't really talk. It's also kinda fun, I've written mute/semi-mute characters before. You'll have to keep reading to find out about the human thing! ;P**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: Spider-cat, Spider-cat, Hides Away in Spidey's Bag

*TIME SKIP: 3 MONTHS*

Hiro wasn't sure if this idea was brilliant or dead stupid. But wasn't that his whole life, summed up in one sentence? Hermione would agree with him. The thought sent a pang through his heart, quickly shaken off as he was faced with big brown doe eyes pleading with him to get in the bag. At last, his curiosity and Gryffindor courage won over his common sense and non-existent self-preservation instincts that hadn't improved when he was turned into a cat.

He chose to ignore Peter's quiet celebration at what he viewed as a success on his part, just rolling his eyes inside the backpack and making sure there was an amply wide slit in the zipper, so he could poke his head and paws out, but hopefully small enough that he wouldn't _fall_ out. Hiro watched the reflective gold-tinted goggles slide down over the chocolate eyes, a half-mask hiding Peter's smile, though you could still tell it was there. Then his seat was picked up and hooked over two shoulders, much more gingerly than the last time he had hitched a ride in secret and it had been swung up and dangled by one strap.

Spider-man, as he was now used to calling Peter when he was in costume, peeked back at him one last time before deciding he was good and crawling out the window before something crazy happened, like Aunt May walking in on them. That… probably wouldn't end well.

The kit heard the easily recognizable _thwip_ and poked his head out as the hero swung them through the air, towards the more downtown and troubled part of the city. With the wind rushing through his fur and everything blurring by at high speeds, he was happy, at home in the sky. Harry had always loved flying, whether on a broom or something else, and some of his happiest memories were up in the sky and/or playing Quidditch. This feeling, along with the lack of panic, probably made Hiro seem even odder to his "owner," but he didn't care.

He loved this rollercoaster ride in the air and closed his eyes just to sense the rise and fall as they went along. But he couldn't keep them that way for long and viridescent irises flew back open with his bubbly happiness. Up and down and up and down in a way reminiscent of diving for the Snitch, yet _completely_ new and exciting. Mostly, Hiro was just happy to be back in the air.

And then they were suddenly diving lower, close enough to the ground for Spidey to land with a few steps rather than dropping down like he'd seen him on the telly.

Back down in the depths of his pack, the cat's ears swiveled and caught muffled conversation, snippets about someone or something stuck in a tree. Slow day, then. Hiro felt the bag jostle as Spider-man climbed a tree and poked his head out to see a young girl huddled out on the end of a branch on the widespread maple. She looked terrified, with wispy strands of blonde hair escaping her pigtails and big hazel eyes filling up with unshed tears. He soon saw why as the branch creaked and the superhero froze in place. That branch was too thin and leave it to city folk to not have a ladder.

"Hey," Spidey whispered softly to the girl. "It's okay, it's okay… I'll get you down, don't move." All he got in return was a tiny whimper and more creaking as she shifted, obviously not quite trusting the masked man. "Shh, shh, you'll be fine… I _promise_." The last words came out haltingly, not enough for the girl to hear, but Hiro picked up on it. Though he shoved the questioning thoughts to the back of his mind, they weren't going to be ignored for _too_ long. Crawling out of the backpack and shimmying his way fully to Spider-man's shoulder, he meowed loudly at the youngster. She couldn't be older than first or second grade and her eyes lit up at the sight of the kit.

"Kitty?" It was so quiet, anyone else would've missed it, but the duo trying to get her down perked up.

"You like cats?" the currently human one offered hesitantly, both his words and his arm. "This is Hiro. He's _very_ friendly." Hiro perched cheerily, puffing up his chest in a way he knew was silly, hoping to get a laugh.

He wasn't disappointed as little giggles came along with her nod. "We can't have a cat. The apartment man says it's pro-prohi- "

"Prohibited?"

"Yeah." The girl was more relaxed now, talking with a superhero with a cat was evidently better than talking to a superhero. A point that encouraged Hiro's shenanigans as he crept along the branch to her, even pausing when it let out a warning groan, and allowed her to pat him a couple times before leading her back to Spider-man. He cast a glance behind his shoulder and meowed again when the girl stopped in fear. She made it all the way across and Hiro tucked himself back into the backpack, though his head still poked out to watch her curiously as she turned nervous again.

"What's your name?" Spidey inquired, seemingly at ease when they were all back near the trunk.

"Fiona."

"That's a pretty name." He got her to hold on around his neck while he cradled her with one arm and climbed down with the other. "I'm Spider-man."

"I know that!" Fiona laughed in the squeaky way of children. " _Everybody_ knows you!"

"Oh, I wouldn't say _everybody_ …"

"Yeah, _everybody!_ " she insisted bouncily and barely noticed that they were back on solid ground, even as the boy set her down. "You're a hero!"

"And _you're_ out of that tree," he added as she peered around, a tad surprised. "Are your parents around here?" The grassy field in the middle of the concrete jungle was spotted with picnickers and people sitting on branches, but no one had come over or even expressed remote concern after Spidey swung over to help. They went on with their food and conversation and he couldn't spy any couples searching for a little girl.

"Hmm… _well_ , best thing to do is stay in one place until they come back." He knelt down to her level with a ridiculous, silly smile that anyone could see despite his colorful ensemble and ticked a finger thrice. Hiro scrambled back up to his shoulder, eager to provide more help. If there was anything he liked more than a good adventure, it was helping. Also known as his "saving people thing," according to his friends. "That's the rule. _But_ , since I have time to spare, I'll sit with you. Sound good?" With her shy nod, Spidey plopped down right then and there, stretching exaggeratedly and leaning back against the trunk of the tree they'd just escaped from. Fiona sniggered again and joined him on the grass, beaming widely when Hiro stepped carefully over her messily crossed legs and into her lap.

They talked and chatted about a hundred things with topics ranging from school, where her favorite subject was recess and Hiro secretly agreed, though Spider-man acted horrified in an only partially joking manner, to whether or not "sparkle" was a color. They finally agreed that it was, which made Fiona very happy.

Almost as happy as she was when her parents, a middle-aged couple who had probably gained a couple grey hairs through this ordeal, came running over and swept her up in a big hug. The girl had her father's hair, her mother's eyes, and that reminded him painfully of his own parents. Harry had resembled his father almost exactly, from the hair to the glasses, and gained his almost otherworldly green eyes from his mother, whose fiery temper sometimes showed itself in him, though uncommonly; like her, he was usually perfectly nice unless you _really_ did something to set him off. Like Draco at Madam Malkin's and then again on the Hogwarts Express, first year.

He drug himself out of his sadly nostalgic and semi-sweet thoughts, noticing Spidey looking at the family like he had been until a second ago. Though hard to tell with his mask still on and the goggles blocking any emotion that could've shown in his typically expressive eyes, he had the same air about him. Worriedly, Hiro gave a small mew, nuzzling his cheek before obediently getting into the comfy carry-on and letting the superhero swing off, out of the park and in between the skyscrapers.

They went past a construction site teeming with workers that looked like ants from their height. Glass windows, metal supports, concrete blocks were running together on each swoop as they picked up speed and height until Spidey finally released a web at the top of a particularly large pendulum motion, sending them on an adrenaline-rush-inducing flight through the sky. One more web-line latched onto the bottom of something Hiro couldn't see, as he had ducked fully into the bag when he realized that the web-slinging happening was wilder than it had been earlier, almost like the spider-themed hero had forgotten he was there and had defaulted to his usual, and they swung in a full loop before Spider-man landed in a crouch.

Only then did he dare emerge, finding that the backpack had been set a yard or so away from the boy, tucked safely behind a foot-high ledge and on the actual roof portion, opposed to where the brunet sat on a metal eagle-head, or something of the sort. He was on the mostly flat part of the sculpture that poked fully out from the roof and over the city and sat with one leg dangling, one bent upright and with his arms looped around it. His hood was down, and his kerchief hung around his neck, fluttering uncertainly, with his goggles pulled up off his face. Eyes closed, he tipped his head back, everything about the position causing Hiro a great deal of worry for his safety, sticky powers or not.

The kit's first few steps were rather unsteady from the flip-ride on the way up and he didn't hop up on the ledge but placed his front paws and head up there to gaze at the teenager. Peter sighed heavily, the sound traveling surprisingly easily due to the abnormally still atmosphere for a perch so high up. "Sorry, buddy. Bit of a rough ride."

Hiro tilted his head with a meow, to his not-owner's amusement. It wasn't _rough_ , per se, just unexpected. "I don't know why that shook me up so much. Just a little girl stuck in a tree. C'mon, I rescue cats all the time, why not Fiona?" He was talking more to himself, but Hiro was glad to offer a listening pair of ears, something he had often wished for in his own childhood.

"I-I _promised_ her," he said with a slight crack. "I kept that promise. I _kept it_." Peter clenched his fist, reassuring himself, as Hiro cautiously came to curl up next to him, then moved to his lap when he shifted to a cross-legged seat. The cat didn't make a sound, not a meow or vibrating purr, sitting with him. "I made a promise… one that I didn't keep once. It… got someone – no, not _someone_ , my _best friend_ , killed. My _best friend_ , for as long as I could remember. I had promised Captain Stacy that I could stay away from his daughter, but I broke it and she died. Because of me. Because of _me_."

At this point, the cat in his lap _desperately_ wished he could wrap Peter in a hug and never let go, that he was human and could do a much better job of helping and protecting. For now, though, he had to settle for providing warmth and comfort from his lap. "And then, I saw _Fiona_ , just now, with her parents… I lost my parents. When I was around her age. And… it just hit home, just then. I don't know why. Maybe it was the promise thing? I don't know."

Brown eyes scanned the cityscape below them, searching, not finding, not really seeing. "Just… I'm this _big hero_. Well, not so big, but I have a responsibility to them. Something Uncle Ben said. ' _With great power, comes great responsibility._ ' I got him killed too. Could've stopped that robber, but I _didn't_. It was spite, too. Stupid, huh? I didn't _know_ he had a gun. I didn't _know_ he would try an' car-jack my uncle. I was just… _mad_ at someone for something as stupid as not getting paid what he owed me. It was my fault, you see? _My fault_."

Hiro kept still, but he wanted nothing more than to yell and scream and slap and hug and cry with this boy, pound it into his head that _no_ , it was _not_ his fault! He knew where it was coming from, he'd blamed himself for things like that in the past. The casualties from the war… _Cedric_ … oh, _Merlin_ , his _parents_ , even wouldn't have died if he'd never been born. He'd gone through the same thing, and Hiro did _not_ want Peter to think those same self-deprecating thoughts he had once.

The boy went on with his soft rambling, "And this city, I _help_ them, and I'm supposed to _protect_ them, but I'm getting shaken up by a little girl and her family. I'm up here lamenting over things I can't change. I'm crying over my lost ones when it's been _at least_ a year, right? There are _tons_ of people out there who have gone through the same thing. _Tons_ who have been through worse."

The unspoken thought rang clear to the both of them. Who was _he_ to worry about himself? Who was _he_ to put himself above others? And Hiro wanted to tell him firmly that he was _allowed_ to be sad, he was only human. But he couldn't. Because he was stuck as a Merlin-damned cat. Thanks a lot, Death.

The duo sat together there, above the city, until the costumed hero stood back up and the cat jumped into his pack and they went home.

* * *

 **AAAAAAAHHHHHH! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry! (*more sobbing*) I don't know what this chapter turned into! I had no plan other than: "Hey, looked Spider-man is carrying around a cat in his backpack!" And then it took off in this direction because I was avoiding fight scenes because I suck at writing them and I ended up writing a tear-jerker ending! I swear, I almost died inside writing this and thinking, "Where did this come from? Why am I doing this to my characters?!"**

 **Anyways, while not the direction I was expecting this one to go (though, there wasn't a plan in the first place), was it good? Obviously, I snuck in some of the popular story points from the movies and comics (Captain Stacy and Gwen dying, Peter letting the robber go, you know). And I think Hiro wanted to kill Death by the end of this chapter, though that's kind of a paradox…**

 **Lucky (was also thinking about chocolate while writing this, hence the adjective "semi-sweet." Just don't ask… she doesn't know why…)**

 **P.S. Das't, I almost forgot! HAPPY INTERNATIONAL FANWORK DAY EVERYBODY! (It's technically tomorrow, but I'll be gone, so here it is right now!)**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Yeah, I love it! I finally got my mom to read it when she saw the movie trailer. They better not screw it up… and I know what you mean with the books. It was a nightmare to get to my Harry Potter books in the attic until I just cleaned out my desk and dedicated a good two drawers to them. =D**

 **To jthy: Exactly! I hate it when the movie people screw stuff up. You should see me whenever someone even mentions the Percy Jackson movies. Just… yikes. Well, I'm glad you're enjoying and reading!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Uprooted from The Closet

*TIME SKIP: 1 MONTH* **(Little known fact: I spent a good 20-30 minutes laying on my back on the couch, staring at the ceiling and listening to random music and contemplating my demise, between ending the last chapter and starting this one. Then it took me an extra 30-ish minutes to get back to my normal personality. And usually I just keep writing on and on and break chapters up at the end. My life, everybody. – Lucky)**

Peter came home from classes and after-school Spider-manning in a good mood. That alone was enough to make Hiro understandably nervous. Last time he came home from school like that, he had had a "great" idea, as described by Peter himself, for a new web-fluid formula and it had ended with the bedroom half-covered in the sticky material, a pair of small explosions, and a very upset Hiro. It had taken him _two days_ to get the stuff out of his fur and he'd spent the whole time as a living duster, picking up dirt and lint wherever he went. He hadn't even looked at Peter for the entirety of that time period.

So, when the brunet pranced in with a big ol' smile on his face, Hiro regarded him with some uncertainty, wondering what exactly had happened at school to put him in such a good mood. He was mostly hoping something embarrassing had happened to Flash, if he was being truthful. Startled out of those devilish thoughts by Peter's bouncy admittance onto the bed, he looked up pitifully and _mrowr_ -ed at him, less than pleased.

"C'mon, what're you looking at me like _that_ for?" was the boy's only response as he tickled the kit's nose with a spare feather that he had probably gotten from the art room. "I think you'll _like_ what I'm about to say." The ball of black fur on his bedspread let out a sound that faintly resembled a meow, but two bright eyes peeked out anyways, leading to an even shinier smile from the other. He was acting even cheerier than normal. Whatever came out of this was bound to be good.

"Well," Peter began, "besides the fact that I aced a bunch of tests and Flash ignored the 'No Running' sign and fell on his butt, I have good news!"

Hiro chuffed in a mocking way at the blonde jock's misfortune before composing himself to listen to the rest of what his "owner" had to say.

"I thought, since it's been a while and I'm feeling especially good today, I'd tell Aunt May I'm gay." Now that got Hiro up and moving about. In fact, he jumped almost a foot in the air when he sprung up and started bounding around the springy mattress like he'd just won the Quidditch World Cup.

The teen next to him just cracked up in laughter and continued to tease the cat with the feather, something that was actually successful this time, since Hiro was too elated to care that it was a fake feather or that he had no real interest in the colorful thing. "Well, I'm glad _you're_ happy. Jeez, if you're _this_ excited about it, I should've done this months ago." Peter got up, laughing at the "no-duh" expression on Hiro's fuzzy little face.

He followed the strutting animal down the stairs to where his aunt was making something in the kitchen that smelled absolutely heavenly to both of them. Even in an old-fashioned – and somewhat frilly – apron with her hair pulled into falling-apart ponytail that exposed silver hairs, May Parker was a beautiful, hard-working woman that they were lucky to have around and live with. "Hi, Aunt May!"

"Hello, Peter," she answered easily, pouring another ingredient into the bowl. Hiro hovered around it on the counter, contemplating if he could sneak a taste without her noticing. "Decide to come down and talk to your poor old aunt properly?"

"You're not old!" he protested and held back a chuckle when the black cat was shooed away from the food that was being prepared. Peter ran a hand along his spine when he walked over to him, trying to pretend he hadn't just been caught sneaking food. "Anyway… I, um, had something I wanted to tell you." Hiro gave him a look from under his hand, practically daring him to chicken out now.

"Of course, dear. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong… I just… _ow!_ " The kit acquired a sort of smug smile, as much as possible for a feline, as he watched the high schooler frown at him around the finger in his mouth, the finger Hiro had just poked with his claws. "I'm telling her, I'm telling her," Peter mumbled under his breath. In the background, Aunt May was giggling quietly to herself at their antics, though her back was turned and she face the stove on the opposite wall.

"You were saying, Peter?" she prompted, amused.

The boy in question sent one last glare at Hiro. "Yeah, yeah. I'm, uh, I'm _gay_." Deep brown eyes glanced up through strands of loose hair expectantly and he unconsciously held his breath, unaware that the cat on the counter in front of him was doing the same. A second passed… then two, and he was afraid she would never say anything. That might be worse that yelling and screaming…

"What was that? Sorry, honey, speak up. I can't hear you over the stovetop vent."

"I'm gay." This time the woman was facing them, and they watched as her face went through a series of emotions that was both entertaining and had them scared of what would happen. Surprise and shock, eyes wide, lips parted. Confusion with eyebrows scrunched together. Thoughtfulness and a pondering countenance. She finally settled on a combination of understanding and knowing, as if she'd seen the signs before Peter. She probably had, Hiro thought with a smirk.

"Okay, dear," Aunt May nodded as she tossed a small salad in an old plastic bowl. Her eyes sparkled with approval and mirth. Hiro had the same shine in his irises when he craned his neck up to see Peter gaping like a fish out of water. Apparently, he had been prepared for every eventuality _except_ that one.

"O-Okay…" he managed incredously. Hiro chuffed, hopping fluidly down from the counter and making his way up the stairs, back to his cushy spot on Peter's bed. He caught the tail ends of sentences and conversation floating up from the kitchen, snippets and words and the odd noise as Peter tried to express some odd emotion.

"Oh, dear. I forgot to get more milk," he caught May's warm tones as they journeyed up through the air. "You don't mind waiting a bit for dinner, do you?"

"Of course, that's fine!" the boy answered, his voice still delighted from earlier. "Do you want me to go get it?"

"No, no. I'll be fine." The jangle of keys and the shuffle of shoes and coats accompanied the statements as she prepared to make the short voyage to the grocers. "Besides, can't have you getting hung up on some cute boy on the way back!"

And with that, the door shut with a click while Peter shouted one last scandalized, " _Aunt May!_ " and caused Hiro to have an interesting sort of laughing fit, seeing as all the kit could do was chuff. He was still getting over it when the door opened to reveal the slightly traumatized Parker boy, who immediately proceeded to plop down at the foot of the bed like he had when he got home, trying to bounce the cat off the bed.

Said animal only graced him with a tiny hiss after he prevented himself from falling over the edge less than elegantly. "That's what you get for laughing at me." He sat, Hiro next to him, and sighed in the most understandable expression of relief humans had come up with so far. Leaning over onto his side and then rolling onto his back, Peter was finally at peace as "his" cat crawled onto his chest to join him. Except for one thing.

"Where's Aunt May?" Hiro simply looked at him as he rolled his head over to check his clock, one that had been beaten even more since the kit had arrived. "She should've been back by now. That new grocery store is what, a five-minute walk? And the milk is right there when you come in. Where is she?"

All he got was a low grumbling sound from his chest, where the midnight-shaded animal hadn't moved.

"Maybe she went to a different store? Or they moved the milk?" The possible situations seemed to quiet his mind and they went back to enjoying the calm atmosphere around the house. For Peter, the minutes seemed to drag by, and he couldn't get that feeling of something-isn't-right off his back. Fifteen more minutes passed uncertainly, and he couldn't sit still any longer.

"Okay, it's been… thirty minutes. That's long enough to be worried. I mean, she didn't take the car, the closest one to walk to is… never mind, she would've been back by now!" Hiro would say Peter was being paranoid if not for 1) the fact that cats don't talk and 2) he was getting the same feeling, and not just from the anxious teenager under him. Jumping off, he allowed him to get up and watched Peter hop on one foot while putting on his sneakers before following him out of the house, surprised at the lack of resistance he was encountering.

When he fell behind – stupid, short little kitty legs – he was scooped up by the boy, who never slowed his pace in the evening air, seeming to follow his senses more than where the store was. Specifically, his sixth sense, the one he technically _wasn't_ supposed to have. The two were led down the street, dim in the fading light where the streetlights had yet to blink on, and around the corner, where they were suddenly greeted by the harsh lights and sirens of a whole crowd of people and emergency vehicles.

A cherry red coup let out little puffs of smoke from the crumpled hood, a light-pole shoved up through its front. Hiro idly wondered how much force it took for it to get so far in but was mostly occupied scanning the scene in increasing horror. The air smelled like blood, the metallic scent faint, but not to them. Then both green and brown eyes landed on one feature.

 _Body bags_.

Oh, Merlin. There were two body bags laid carefully by the ambulance, whose light cast eerie shadows on the objects and whose blaring siren was starting to get to Peter, that much was obvious to Hiro. They stared in terrified unison, both running scenarios through their heads, their trains of thoughts leaning towards worst-case. Peter finally worked up enough courage to walk up to one of the police officers even though he looked like he was going to throw up. Hiro was sure if Peter did, he'd be next. "What happened here, Officer?"

The female spared him a passing glimpse with no interest for the boy with a cat on his shoulder. "Car accident, kid. Two dead, driver and a passerby."

"H-have they ident-identified the bodies?" he choked out, a shaking hand slowly but surely making its way to his mouth.

"Move along, kid. We're all busy here," she blew him off without looking.

" _Please_ , ma'am. My _aunt_ – just, have you identified the bodies?"

The blue-uniformed woman finally looked at him from under her crisp hat and let up a bit. "Okay, kid," she sighed and flipped a paper over her clipboard. "I have two positive IDs. The passerby had a wallet on her with the name 'May Parker.' The driver…" Peter didn't hear anything after that. His heart had started pounding in his ears at the word "her" and he completely blanked out after "May Parker."

The world turned muted, as if hearing everything through cotton-stuffed ears, and he started floating away into his head, but with Hiro's soft weight on his shoulder, he was brought back to the ground before long. It didn't mean he had to like it, the way everything returned in an unwelcome rush of… _everything_. And suddenly it was _too much_ with the sirens and the lights and the now very concerned police lady trying to talk to him _much_ too loudly and he stumbled over to the welcomingly cool brick wall of the building.

Peter leaned against it, his back pressed flush as he slid down and sat at the bottom with breaths coming fast and short. Hiro responded just as quickly, getting off of his shoulder and curling up as close to his friend's center as he could to simply give as much comfort and sympathy as possible. The girl-in-blue – who they both were starting to _really_ dislike, and not just because she was the deliverer of terrible news – kept trying to remove the cat from the boy's lap and talk to him herself, which wasn't working well for _anyone_.

With his claws firmly, but carefully, attached to Peter's shirt, Hiro wasn't going anywhere and every time the unnamed officer tried to pick him up all she got was angry hisses, the rare claw-swipe, and poor Peter trying to hold onto him before the last familiar thing about his environment was ripped away from him. Miracle of miracles, she _finally_ got the not-so-subtle hint and left them alone, to put it in Hiro's snarky current mood as he continued to support the one closest to his heart. His sharp virescent eyes followed the first responders as they rushed around the scene, _daring_ anybody to even try and bother Peter and him.

* * *

 **And now I'm back! From outer space! No, not really, I'm just back from Canada. Which was awesome, even though I twisted my knee trying to learn to ski and had to skip the second day. But I'm good! Now, onto the actual author's note...**

 **This is why the last chapter wasn't supposed to end up so serious/sad/tear-jerking! But, I guess it turned out okay… oh, who am I kidding. This chapter was awful and if that wasn't bad enough it was one of the chapters that actually had a major storyline point in it! I am SO SO SO SORRY! I'm just as sorry as I was last chapter! =( It's even worse because I LOVE Aunt May! Why in Tartarus did I put these two chapter one after another?! Oh, right… I HAD NO FLARKING IDEA CHAPTER EIGHT WOULD TURN OUT LIKE THAT! I'm sorry…**

 **Lucky**

 **P.S. This isn't the end, you'll find out what happens to Peter and Hiro (i.e. where they're gonna live and everything now that Aunt May is… you know…) next chapter. Sorry again, this wasn't originally supposed to be a two-part thing. That means when I said the real storyline would start around Chapter Twelve, I was accidently lying. It's 'round Thirteen now. (Ha, Lucky Numeral** ** _Thirteen_** **, get it? But that wasn't actually on purpose)**

 **To plums: Sorry, I know my summary wasn't good at all, I hope this new one is a bit better with the parentheses at the end. I was trying to make it a bit of a surprise that he was turned into a cat and this is my first story I've ever posted. Thank you for your honest opinion and feedback.**

 **To aidann83: Huh… okay. Not sure what's going through my head is the same as what you're thinking, but thanks for the review!**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: You know, you're a really good conversationalist. You always provide such awesome insight. The communication issue (and poor Peter's guilt) are going to take a while to resolve, so hang in there!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: Uprooted Part Two

 **(A/N: this is sort-of, kind-of Peter's POV? I think? – Lucky)**

The next few days were a blur of professional-looking men and women in suits in and out of the old Parker home, one that felt empty and cold with only a teen and a cat to occupy it. Plans and meetings for the funeral, the will, and everything else that Peter really didn't want to deal with at that moment or anytime soon.

And there was one last thing he had been avoiding at all costs. Where he was supposed to live.

Since he was underage that meant he had to go somewhere, and in this case, since all his relatives were now… deceased… his options were a group home/orphanage or emancipation. He hadn't even _known_ that New York still had orphanages or group homes. What Peter _did_ know was that emancipation was a practical _impossibility_ with his current financial situation. His family had never been on the well-off side and his job was off-and-on at the best since it depended on how often he went out as Spider-man and if he remembered to set up his camera, or if he set it up in the right place… the point was, J. Jonah Jerk-face was _not_ a reliable source of income. And that man was not one for sympathy.

With Hiro added to the mix, it was even more difficult. Peter was almost _positive_ that pets wouldn't be allowed anywhere, even if he was sent to something like a foster home, though that was right up there with emancipation. He couldn't abandon his only friend, the one that was pretty much the only thing preventing him from losing his sanity. That was a rather sad statement now that he thought about it… that his best friend was a cat. But Hiro was a good friend, the best he'd ever had, as he maintained, and there was _no way_ he was going to be persuaded to give him up or away.

"You aren't going _anywhere_ ," Peter whispered with the kit in his lap, imperceptible unless there was somebody in the room with enhanced senses he was unaware of. "Not without me." Maybe it was his imagination, which had been working overtime lately as he tuned out lawyers and bank-people both purposefully and on accident, but the purring seemed to deepen at his words. Hiro snuggled in further to his lap, as if he was just as determined not to lose him.

Peter sighed in contentment and shivered, feeling as if the empty, cold room was trying to suffocate him. The sigh turned into a groan as reality pressed down on his shoulders, he made these promises in his head, only recognizing afterwards that he would have no help with keeping them. He hated promises with a passion. Sometimes Peter heard people make them idly in the hallways at school:

" _I_ promis _e, I'll call you after practice_."

" _I'll be on time tomorrow, sir, I_ promise."

" _Of course, I won't text and drive, Mom. I_ promise."

Then they didn't keep them, and they just turned into empty, meaningless things. Promises meant nothing anymore. The boyfriend forgot to call, and his girlfriend broke up with him. The student was late again and again and ended up failing the class. The teenaged driver couldn't stop texting, crashed their car, and died. Perhaps he was being negative but look how promises turned out for him. Peter's promise to Captain Stacy? Broken, and Gwen was dead. The promise he made once-upon-a-time to keep Gwen's father safe, just to get her to leave and get out of the danger zone? Broken. He died. And even before that, promises made to Aunt May and Uncle Ben… oh, _Uncle Ben_.

What would he think now? What would he think, seeing Peter useless and sad and just _broken_ after all that he'd been through? He would be disappointed at what Peter had become, the boy was sure. No, not what he had become, but what he _was._ What Peter was, was a _curse_. He was a curse on everyone around him, everyone he got close to. The _Parker_ Luck? Ha. No, that was all _him_.

The _Peter_ Parker Luck.

What was wrong with him?

Everyone died: Uncle Ben, Captain Stacy, Gwen, and now Aunt May. Now what was _he_ doing? Sitting here, feeling sorry for himself. No, that wasn't right.

Peter stood up abruptly, unintentionally knocking Hiro from his lap, not noticing anything much as he shuffled one-by-one up the stairs and to his room, even messier than usual. In the back of his turbulent thoughts, he heard mewing and saw the cat follow in from the corner of his eye, bitterly imagining that he sounded concerned and not believing it for the second it crossed his mind. Too deep in his self-hatred at that moment to accept that someone might _care_.

Instead, Peter dragged a small duffel out of his closet and stuffed clothes into it, then a quick trip to the bathroom for toiletries, and the items were accompanied by his phone, the charger, his laptop, the other charger, glasses passed down from his father in their case – though the lenses had been replaced by clear glass a while back—and a spare notebook with random writing utensils. The bag was less than full when he was done, and a stray thought reminded him to go and grab Hiro's bowl and the small bag of food they had left.

His addled mind remembered to grab his envelope of photo money before zipping the duffel. Peter grabbed it, his school backpack, along with a wrapped-up travel blanket before unzipping the recently zipped bag and stuffing all remaining space full of water and food. With two rather heavy bags hanging from his shoulders and a travel blanket under one of his arms, he supposed he should feel sort of weighed down. But he almost felt the opposite as Hiro clambered up his luggage and nestled on his head.

This was the perfect solution to his problems. Peter could stay with Hiro. And he wouldn't have to worry about being around anyone, getting close to anyone. Anyone he got close to… no, he wouldn't think that. He'd just stay away. Besides, who was there to get close to when you were living on the streets?

* * *

 **Here's yesterday for me summed up in one really bad song parody (because I am me): It's snow-ing, it's blow-ing, my forget-ful-ness is show-ing!**

 **I have about a dozen legitimate excuses, including the fact that both my phone and computer died, I was sucked into a marathon of Harry Potter movies in the SyFy channel, and I kept getting booted from room to room by first my younger brother and then my dad. And then there's the fact that I actually managed to forget that yesterday was Friday. I am so, SO sorry for not posting! (and to top it off, this one's short! Great job, Lucky...) But back to the real A/N...**

 **Poor Peter! I'm feeling very, very repetitive right now but I feel so bad! Why do I do this to my characters?! (** ** _Well, there not exactly mine…_** **[Shut up, me]) Why?! (** ** _Because I have to have_** ** _some_** ** _character development, besides, what would happen to the storyline?_** **[Again, I say… SHUT UP, ME!]** ** _Well, excuse you)_** **Apologies, the internal argument I'm having with myself is not being helpful in the slightest. Well, next chapter is something a bit more fluffy, but I'm not telling what!**

 **Lucky (promises she's not insane and thinks she used "well" far too much in this A/N. Though she would not say she is completely sane… just not fully** ** _in_** **sane)**

 **;)**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Well... sorry to say, but to get to that part, you'll have to be in for the long haul. It's going to take a while for Peter to get it into his head that he's not at fault and everything. I hope this doesn't scare you away, but it'll probably get worse before it gets better and the chapters will most likely be in the thirties before Hiro gets a chance to pound that into him. This tends to be the problem with my stories: they're ridiculously long-winded and take forever. One of the reasons I've never posted them before. Again, I hope you still keep reading and reviewing, I love reading your comments. To the second part of your last review: yep, I'll always take a chance to stick it to Flash! And I'm happy you liked Aunt May's reaction. I really just wasn't sure when I was writing it… I didn't want to be cliché or OOC. Thanks for the feedback!**

 **To Silvermane1: Unfortunately no, mostly because my version of Peter follows no canon, I just snatch bits and pieces of background and shove them together to make this Peter. He doesn't know Mr. Stark yet (and so is still in his [admittedly awesome] homemade suit). I had toyed with that at one point before decided to do this, what you just read above. But don't worry! Tony will have his chance to be a helicopter parent later. ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven: What's A "Midgardian"?

*TIME SKIP: 6 MONTHS*

While Hiro hadn't exactly approved of Peter's choice to run away from the legal system and live on the streets of New York, he had to admit it was going well so far. They'd been at it for… around half a year now, he thought… and the boy adapted quickly. The only slip-up that had been made was when his school pack had been swiped by some random bloke when they were asleep.

Hiro didn't really know why Peter had insisted on keeping up with his schoolwork, going so far as to daringly continue to attend Midtown High even when they were liable to be caught by CPS or something of the kind. Most kids – including the former schoolboy himself – would've thought that bunking off on their education was the best part.

Then again, Peter was not normal in any sense of the word and Hiro liked to think they both thought that was the best. He was quite certain of _his_ standpoint. The boy had kept up with it all and even dropped off his borrowed textbooks when the time came, then when he finally realized that CPS was getting too close and getting closer every time he went in.

But Peter still had his duffel and that, now slightly ratty, notebook he wrote all of his ideas down in and he had taken to lurking around the library whenever possible. He studied all manner of things with Hiro hidden deftly in his bag – _no pets allowed_ , he had to remind himself repeatedly when in there – yet continued to stick like the spider he was to the sciences, excelling, to Hiro's pride.

There was always some book shoved in the duffel, usually something far, far above his age level and Hiro's head. Hogwarts never provided a practical muggle education in the first place, but he managed to catch up to at least the USA grade-level he would've been in at his age.

He poured over all of this in his head while doing his best to keep Peter warm as the duo dozed against a wall in the afternoon, Peter mostly sitting up with his legs splayed in front of him and Hiro in his lap. Neither were really asleep. They were always listening and watching for anything nowadays and Peter's eyes shifted from open to half-closed at the most.

The day had been good, the weather not too extreme, a fiver scrounged up to pay for a decent lunch of a sandwich. Things were _so_ overpriced in the city, Hiro complained to himself drowsily. Peter – that thoughtful idiot – _always_ , without fail, shared his meal with him despite who was significantly larger and needed it more.

Still, it could be worse.

There had been times where the teen would go _days_ without food and/or sleep, abandoning either or both for safety, shelter, or sometimes just not having enough. Not enough money, not enough talent to earn anything like a performing monkey – or so Peter felt he had to pretend – just not enough, _period_. The kit did his best, but, unfortunately, people seemed to notice when food or water started sneaking out of the store on its own. The most he found himself able to do was catch runaway coins or bills those more well-off carelessly dropped or forgot.

Hiro felt illogically guilty that he couldn't do more, though in his head he recognized that he really couldn't do anything else and cursed the fact that he was still stuck as a cat, and thus, unable to do magic. At least he had _finally_ gotten his self-sacrificing not-owner to take a load off from what had turned into almost constant superhero-ing now that Peter's time wasn't sucked up by school or trivial things like the need to sleep and eat, which were still necessary, the kit grumbled to himself. Not that the boy seemed to _know_ that.

Instead he kept going out again and again, putting other people before himself in a way that would've made Hiro proud if it hadn't been so self-destructive. But he'd got the hero to take a break at last, bringing them to where they rested against the coolness of a tourist-shop's corner, before the wall took a dive into a surprisingly well-lit alley with nothing in it but a cluster of rubbish cans and somebody's fire escape. Hiro had made sure of it, along with Peter and his enhanced senses, before the now singular bag was even propped behind his lower back like a pillow.

A gloved hand brought itself up to the feline's back, uncovered fingers gently running through his fur as he began to purr at the wonderful feeling. He glanced back and up at Peter, interrupting his own expression of pleasure with a short chuff when he saw the other hand propping the brunet's head up with his brown eyes half-closed.

As always, he wore his Spidey outfit under his buttoned-up favorite jacket, the hood and kerchief tucked in and away, the kneepads and goggles stashed away in the bag, and the tight black pants pulled over his high red shoes, rather than the other way around. All in all, he completed the look of "homeless kid" very well with his brown hair sticking out every which way like a bird's nest instead of combed over messily in a way Hiro had always found cute.

The aforementioned male smiled lazily as he met the animal's bright eyes before returning to scanning the bustling street and sidewalk. Everywhere in New York was always busy, but everywhere, every part of the city, was a different type of busy. This part was the type of busy where you could stand in one spot and watch the same people file in and out of office buildings all day long as workers went in for the day, came out for lunch, went back in, and came out at the end of the day while interns and messengers ran about getting coffee or letters to deliver.

The business district was filled with people in suits, button-downs, and pencil skirts, so when Peter caught sight of a decidedly _not_ professional businessman walking with an older man and two women who all looked _very_ confused, his interest was piqued. His sitting up jostled Hiro just enough for the cat to catch the same glimpse of the out-of-place crew and for him to gaze interestedly at them.

"Those few are odd," Peter murmured. "Don't you think, Hiro?"

He got a soft meow in agreement from the black furball on his lap and absentmindedly nodded with consensus to his statement and Hiro.

The younger man, though he was still years older than the teenager himself, had long, dirty blond hair and a rugged appearance, built like a wrestler and clothed like Peter in jeans and an open jacket. The older man seemed small next to the giant with a rumpled checkered shirt and glasses tucked into the greying hair behind his ears. They strode along with two women, both brunettes, though one's hair was dark and curly while the other's was light. The dark-haired lady was younger, with glasses and a beanie that gave her an overall hipster look. The older one of the two had the look of a scientist as she studied the papers in her hand and somehow managed to not run into the people around her.

"I think they're lost." And lo, behold, the eldest was getting out a crumpled map, almost hitting several passersby with it. "They need help." Oh, no. Hiro knew where this was going. "C''mon, you lazy kitty. Let's go help."

Said kitty hopped off his lap with an annoyed hiss as Peter stood up and shouldered his duffel, stretching for a few seconds before Hiro pounced on him and climbed up to his shoulder. Like a furry parrot, he perched there with excellent balance while the boy crossed the street with a glance each way, loping along through temporarily stopped traffic with the gall to wave at a very irritated driver at the front of the line, causing his companion to chuff merrily.

"Hey, Blondie!" Peter called loudly. The tallest man, dubbed "Blondie" by the teen, looked around in befuddlement, not sure if he was being addressed or who was – maybe – addressing him. "Yeah! Hey! Right here!" He waved to the long-haired blonde with a ridiculous smile, gaining a small wave and matching smile from the hipster girl. The lady grabbed the elbow of the other female, who was about to go on walking past them as she was too absorbed in her papers. "Hi! You guys look lost!"

"Blondie" frowned. "Art thou the Midgardian who called 'blondie'?"

" _Yeees_ ," Peter drug out the word, then scrunched his eyebrows together. "What's a 'midgardian'?"

"It is what thh- _you_ are," the man stumbled over the term, changing it halfway through after getting a pointed look from the dark-haired woman. He almost seemed afraid of her, the hilarity of the situation adding fuel to Hiro's laughter.

"Actually, I'm Peter," he told him.

"Uh," the other lady stepped in, "is your cat okay?" All eyes turned to the kit on the boy's shoulder, who had been, and currently was, in the middle of a chuffing wholeheartedly at the conversation and the humans' expressions and was in slight danger of falling off of Peter's shoulder despite his honed balancing skills. The way they were all looking at him now only drove the problem further.

"Yeah, he's fine," the teenager rolled his eyes. "Hey, Hiro. Stop that, you're embarrassing me." He poked the cat's furry chest teasingly, pressing down his own snicker when he got an entertaining look from the intelligent green eyes.

 _You don't need any help with that_ , they seemed to say to him, though he was probably imagining it. Hiro, on the other hand, successfully managed not to grin like an idiot under his not-owners gaze, though another chuff or two slipped out.

"Shush, you. Do you want to go in the bag? I _will_ put you in the bag." Hiro immediately shut his trap, the minor threat was quick and effective, as Peter knew how much he hated being trapped in there. He hadn't minded the school backpack those couple of times, but this one was full of small, hard items that like to poke him in the most uncomfortable ways.

Plus, this bag couldn't be pressed against Peter's back in the way Hiro liked, the way that he could feel the boy's warmth and – sometimes – heartbeat.

"Okay, sorry about him. He's a little troublemaker." The feline achieved an affronted look and batted Peter's ear gently before settling in for what was sure to be an interesting conversation. "Where were we? Oh, right! I'm Peter and you guys look lost," he smiled. "You want some help?"

The older man opened his mouth. "No—"

" _Yes!_ " "Glasses-girl," as she was being referred to in Hiro's mind, barged in. "We'll be wandering around for _hours_ if we let _him_ read the map," she groaned, then, in a lower voice. "Stupid males… never ask for directions."

"I agree!" Peter answered to her mutterings as brightly as ever. He always seemed happier when helping… or science-ing. Hiro just hoped he wouldn't develop a saving-people thing as bad as his.

"But… you _are_ a guy," she pointed out.

"Your point?"

"… I like you," "Glasses-girl" decided. "I'm Darcy L. The old dude is Erik S. The scientist who should _look up from her science-y papers before she runs into something_ is Jane F. And the blonde hunk is Thor… uh, Thor, what's your surname?"

"Odinson! My father—"

"Yeah, yeah. Thor O. Jane ran him over with a car when she met him. Twice," Darcy finished with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Now they're a thing."

Jane finally looked up at that last bit with an annoyed, long-suffering look on her face. "Darcy. It was an _accident!_ And _you_ tasered him!"

"Yes, yes I did."

"Why do you sound _proud?!"_

"Because I am."

"Nice," Peter broke up the two and Darcy obliged to his proffered high-five. "Just don't do it to me." She nodded in apparent concession, crossing her heart, and the boy had evidently determined that that was enough for him to trust her as he turned around to help Erik finish unfolding his map. He then had to flip it over because the man was holding it upside down. "So, where are you all off to this fine afternoon?"

"Midtown School of Science and Technology," Jane responded from his other side. "For a presentation about—"

"Yes, yes, science-y words and mumbo-jumbo," Darcy interrupted again. Thor could be heard in the background, feeling quite left out and confused, mumbling, "What is this 'mumbo' thou speak of?" while the dark-haired girl silently imitated a chatterbox with her hand. "Where is it, the school?"

"My old high school?" the teen repeated, bouncing back a few steps on the balls of his feet so they weren't crowding poor Erik from all sides. "You guys 're in the _completely_ wrong place. Why are you using a paper map, anyways? Phones are easier. Or GPS. Or a taxi."

"Doctors-We-Have-Multiple-Degrees over here forgot their phones," she mocked, vexed. "I'm pretty sure Thor doesn't know what as GPS is. And apparently walking is 'healthy'? _Bleh_."

Thor trotted beside them like a puppy. A very large, blonde puppy… but still. "'Tis true. I saw the small black rectangles in the… what doth thou call it? … the kitchen, though I knew not of their importance."

"I rest my case." Darcy sighed dramatically before turning to her friend and stage-whispering not very effectively, " _Why didn't you tell me?!"_ Trying to swat at him, she seemed annoyed when it garnered no reaction from anyone other than Peter and Hiro, wearing wide a wide smile and struggling to contain more laughter, respectively. Hiro would've though the man was a wizard if not for the obvious universe difference and his… old-fashioned speech. "Ugh, it's like hitting a wall. That talks like Shakespeare."

* * *

 **What did you think of my fluffy chapter? Please note that absolutely none of this has ever happened in the actual, amazing MCU or the comics, it was just a silly idea that floated around in my head for a while. Sorry about the boringly long explanation-ish bits in the beginning, but I skipped six months and had to put some stuff in there! No… you're right. This was a bust. It sounded better in my head, I promise! Though everything sounds better in my head. But jeebus, that thing was long! How the heck did a short one-shot filler turn into that monstrosity?**

 **Lucky**

 **To Kelvrin: You'll have to keep reading to find out, but I will say that there is a high likelihood that he'll get out of his cat body eventually. Yes, that was purposefully vague. To your second review, yeah, I guess so. I wasn't really thinking about that when I wrote it and my Death isn't Hela or Loki's daughter (Hela is Thor's sister [technically Loki's too, through adoption] in the MCU anyway. Though that still doesn't apply to my Death). It was just a coincidence.**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve: A Pirate Without A Parrot

*TIME SKIP: 6 MONTHS*

Nick Fury was in a good mood. This slightly scared a good number of the agents working at the same S.H.I.E.L.D. base as him because the director was _never_ in a good mood.

They'd seen him annoyed, usually at a new recruit, Agent Barton – codename, Hawkeye – or the Council. They'd seen him pissed, which was also scary, typically at someone who threatened the safety of his country, Agent Barton, or the Council. And they'd seen him stoic, when giving out orders, issuing a particularly unpleasant punishment on Agent Barton, or lecturing the proverbial pants off of the Council and pretty much the rest of the time.

But most had never seen him in anything close to resembling a good mood and the rest had barely seen a hint of it after a mission or trap had gone off flawlessly and all of them were unsettled. Only Nick knew why he was in a good mood and he was about to meet the source of it.

* * *

*POV CHANGE: REGULAR* **(A/N: yeah, that little part above just popped into my head. Now we're back to normal with Hiro. – Lucky)**

* * *

As much as Hiro enjoyed the wide-open sky and being up among the clouds, he was still wary of the edge of a building more than three stories without his broom. Which he didn't have, and he doubted cats could fly in this world from what he'd seen of them stuck in trees constantly. He could not _believe_ how many Spider-man rescued weekly.

And he'd just gotten back from getting yet _another_ out, leading to their current position: Spidey dangling his legs over the edge of a high-rise with Hiro and his duffel sitting a couple feet away while he whistled, the sound almost lost in the middle of the city.

"Whatcha think, buddy?" he asked jokingly. "Rack this cat up to number – what is it now? Three hundred?"

"That's probably an exaggeration," a new voice butted in unexpectedly. "But given your track record, I wouldn't be surprised." The voice was deep and dark, the man reflecting that perfectly.

He stood tall and rigid, giving away military training and experience with his posture alone. A long, black trench coat swept past his legs and all his clothing underneath was of a similar shade. The man himself was dark-skinned and clean-shaven, an eyepatch over one eye barely covered scar tissue that peeked out from underneath. His expression was carefully neutral, and his overall impression was of a commander, and a bloody good one at that, Hiro decided.

"Would ya lookee there!" Spidey exclaimed cheerily, going with his usual sarcastic attitude. "It's Jack Sparrow! Excuse me, _Captain_ Jack Sparrow! Where'd you park the Black Pearl?" The mysterious stranger – and wasn't that both familiar _and_ a cliché? – raised an eyebrow at the superhero. "Hm, maybe not a pirate, too grumpy. Doesn't even have a parrot." He finally got up from his seat and stood facing the man, still in full Spider-man gear and glad of it. Hiro resorted to staying in his tucked-away nook by the duffel, curiously poking his nose over to see the pair study each other.

"Spider-man—"

"Yes?"

"—has been claimed to be both a hero and a villain by many people," he went on as if he hadn't even been disturbed. The silence after the statement was long and so thick a solid kick could have knocked it down. "I'm from an organization that believes the former. The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."

"That's a mouthful," the brunet noted.

He smirked. "We just call it S.H.I.E.L.D." Another silence stretched between them.

"So, what, you want me to join?"

"Yes, in a way," the African-American conceded with a nod. "There was an idea, to bring together—"

"Okay, can we skip the inspiring speech bit?" Spider-man cut him off. Hiro sniggered to himself from his spot, even though the still-unknown stranger didn't even blink at the interruption. He seemed rather used to it, if a little irritated, though not to the untrained eye. "I get enough of the monologue junk from villains. Though theirs is more 'Blah, blah, blah, take over the world' before I shut them up and I'm betting your is a little more like 'Blah, blah, blah, _save_ the world,' but I'd still like you to shush. Can we get back to something like, oh, say, what the heck your _name_ is, stranger?"

"Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Oh, we've got _management_."

"Indeed, you do," Director Fury confirmed, sharply nodding again. "You want the short story? Here it is. I'm putting together a team and I want you to be on it."

"Why?" Spidey questioned plainly. There was no way he'd actually _do_ it, but he wanted to know why he was even considered. What did they see in _him?_ All he could see in himself was a sad little boy who hurt everyone he was ever close to. Another good reason to stay away from this team thing.

"You're strong, you're fast, and you can work out plans in a split second after observing the enemy," the man replied in turn, the same clear-cut tone in his voice. "From the footage I've seen you can go up against an opponent for the first time, assess their weakness, and beat the crap out of them while making sure no one gets in harm's way."

"Well when you put it like that I sound awesome," he grinned underneath his mask as he spread his arms out.

"I wasn't done. You also have an impressive academic record, _Mister Parker_. Though those absences of yours were worrying." That right there shut down any teasing mood the atmosphere had previously. Behind the bag, Hiro zeroed in on the director, watching him intently and trying to see if he was bluffing and just had really good luck. It was a long shot that didn't turn up those outlandish answers.

Spider-man's voice was low and dangerous now, a clear warning to watch it. "How do you know that?"

"It doesn't matter how I do, just that I do," Fury said, receiving the warning and knowing how skilled the teen was, despite his age and general lack of training. "Peter Parker, born September 24th to a Richard and Mary Parker, née Fitzpatrick, who died when he was young. Taken in by his uncle and aunt, a Benjamin Parker and May Parker, née Reilly. Benjamin Parker was killed by a criminal when Peter was fourteen. And then Spider-man turned up." He wisely didn't mention anything more personal than the cold, hard facts of the major events in Peter's life.

"So, you caught me," the hero stated with his chin tilted up, though not arrogantly, more as a challenge. "What are you going to do now _Director?_ Go to the media? Blackmail? I mean, you _do_ run a shady government organization, so the blackmail thing is more likely…" He stood with his arms crossed and his eyes hidden behind reflective goggles that glinted and showed nothing more than the man's own reflection. It was a calculating reflection.

"No."

"No?"

"No. No blackmail, and no goddamn _media_ ," Director Fury affirmed with a barely perceptible wrinkle of his nose. This guy doesn't like Jonah any more than we do, Hiro laughed in his head. "The offers stands. Join the team, save the world. Or not. Either way, your identity will not be exposed, and I have made personally sure that it remains off our digital servers. No need to worry about hackers." Under his breath, the man muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "No need for that goddamned _Stark_ to find out."

"You know, that makes that _much_ easier!" And here's the perky Peter that they all knew. "But I'm going to have to turn you down. I won't be on your team. I'm a solo act. Too many people could get hurt, especially with a team that doesn't cooperate." The teenaged superhero eyed Fury with surprising knowledge for someone of his age. Of course, most teenagers were more worried about what the next fashion trend was, and most didn't have an intellect like Peter's.

"You're going to have to watch who you put on that team of yours, Director."

Then they were back to the slightly – okay, maybe a little _more_ than slightly – snarky superhero the city knew, and Hiro loved.

Wait, did he just think that?

"Welp, toodles!" Hiro knew enough by now that he was already settled securely into the zipped duffel bag, silently thanking whoever decided to put zipper-strings on both sides, when Spidey scooped up the bag and headed towards the edge of the roof. "Call me when the world's ending, or there's aliens or something, and I might come! _Might!_ " With that, the kit felt gravity abandon him as they fell from the building before the up-and-down pendulum motion of web slinging started, bringing them to wherever they would sleep tonight and to what was sure to be a long one-sided, or so Peter would think, conversation.

* * *

 **Getting one thing out of the way first, I know that it's unrealistic that Fury doesn't know Peter's homeless or that his aunt is dead. But I needed it for the storyline, so just pretend there's an incompetent S.H.I.E.L.D. agent somewhere who forgot to update the file. Or something. This is why I write fanfiction online rather than an actual book.**

 **And I know this is all terribly unrealistic, but please roll with my strange POV that Fury actually recognizes that Spider-man helps the city and doesn't want to make an enemy out of him. Also, who would really want Tony Stark to be able to hack onto their servers and find out that? Safer to keep the super important and classified stuff off of those things (yes, I just implied that there's stuff more classified than Phase Two. No, this will not be a part of this story. I'm just talking about things like secret IDs).**

 **Separately, who's foreshadowing future events? Certainly not I! Though I so enjoy a good movie reference (who can guess which two I'm thinking of?) ;P**

 **On another note, I just realized I referred to Fury as "Nick" during that first excerpt part and am currently freaking out/laughing out loud, I'm not sure which one or why. Calling Fury "Nick" just seems so weird to me. Anyways, tell me what you thought, especially that first part. That was pure spur-of-the-moment, straight-outta-my-brain randomness right there. Quality stuff.**

 **Lucky**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Thank you! My muses do like to run out on me randomly, or be like, "Psyche! You're on your own!" but I usually get through it. Hopefully my writing improves, but I know there are parts of this story where it's obvious that my inspiration flew the coop during writing. It's a flighty thing.**

 **To Silverman1: Yeah, but he's still an adorkable nerd like always. That doesn't change.**

 **To Ellainaparker: Yep, Darcy has to wrangle two scientists with less than perfect work-life balances, plus deal with a culturally inept Norse god from Asgard who can't handle any sort of technology. She's great, and so much fun to write!**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen: Why Aliens?

*TIME SKIP: 1 MONTH* **(Basically, it has now been two years since Harry [Hiro now] arrived and the boys are sixteen. Get ready for an actual storyline, people! [*incredulous gasps*] One thing out the way right now: this starts partway into the movie, around the time when all the agents are – Lucky)**

Phil Coulson was annoyed. Specifically, Phil Coulson was annoyed at the Director. He had the nerve to tell him that they were getting the Avengers together – a roster that included _Captain America_ for God's sake! – and then tell him to pick up _Stark_ of all people instead of _Steve Rogers_. He knew how much Phil liked Captain America. Sure, Maria called him a fanboy… but that guy was a living _legend!_ _Everybody_ would be as excited as he was if they knew!

But _no_ , he had to go pick up _Stark,_ who was as annoying as ever and now he's supposed to be finding some _kid_ in the middle of New York. He'd much rather be briefing Captain America than walking on a busy sidewalk towards a library the teen was known to frequent. Hmm, _Peter Parker_. Why did the Director want him?

The agent slid between two gaggles of skimpily-dressed women and finally found the library he was looking for, praying that he could find the sixteen-year-old inside, so he didn't have to navigate back through the crowds to the nearest base to check the CCTV cameras again. The building was much less impressive than the one in Manhattan, but it was smaller and quiet, nearly abandoned, a fact which Phil was glad for since it made finding his target easier.

He saw two or three kids gathered excitedly around a play table, grabbing at the crayons in the center with papers in front of them and a librarian making sure they didn't draw on the books instead. Further in, he wove through the bookshelves and tables to the teen section, hoping to find the boy he was looking for there.

Phil ran through the description and the picture he had been given. Brown hair, brown eyes, fair-skinned and a bit lanky, though he wasn't all that tall. Director Fury had also told him to not underestimate the kid, which was something coming from the director. But when he got to the teen section of the library, it was empty, devoid of anyone or anything.

The agent sighed, plodding off to the next section, cursing Fury in his head. The entire library was almost empty, like no one wanted to be there if they had something better to do. Of course, you wouldn't find many people in a library on a weekend anywhere. Wandering around and effectively avoiding any overly friendly librarians, he finally found life in the far back corner of the library, a table and chair situated between the adult and non-fiction sections. There was a thick, open tome lying halfway open on the table and all Phil could see of the reader was his mop of brunet hair as he leaned over the book.

The person didn't respond to his presence, though he somehow had the feeling that the boy knew he was there, and there was a duffel bag by his chair. As he watched, the reader finished whatever he was trying to finish, closing the book with a heavy breath out. He looked up and Phil was met with a surprisingly youthful face, even though he knew he was supposed to find a teenager for reasons not explained to him.

"Hey, super-secret-agent-y guy," the guy sighed, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Fury can _not_ leave me alone. It's been a _month_. Ish. Maybe?" Now he looked confused at his own sentence as he picked up his bag, along with the book. The hardback was brought up to an empty space on one of the shelves and when he brought his hand away, Phil could read the title. _A Guide to Thermonuclear Astrophysics_. He wasn't sure, but that seemed a _little_ above the high school level, if you noted his sarcasm. He was just hopeful he wasn't sent to find a mini Stark clone. "I told him to find me if the world was ending. Or aliens. And I don't see the world ending…" The shorter glanced around as if he would find the apocalypse behind the plastic chair. "… so, did someone find an alien?"

Phil found himself close to a smile of his own. "In a way. We have an alien object. An unlimited power source. I'm Agent Phil Coulson. I'll debrief you further in a more private environment, Mr. Parker." At the last word, the boy frowned in an irritated way he didn't understand.

"Did he _have_ to give away my ID?" he whined. "I mean, I wasn't thrilled when _he_ found out, now he goes telling it to every agent in his pirate ship?" Oh, yes. This teenager would get along great with Stark and was – thankfully – less annoying. Phil actually kind of liked him.

"If it's any consolation, Mr. Parker, I'm Director Fury's right hand," Agent Coulson smirked and adjusted his sunglasses. "He doesn't tell many people anything, that's for certain. I'm not even sure what you mean about your identification…"

"Call me Peter," Peter nodded with respect and a relieved smile. "Then you're in for a surprise, 'cause I'm not going anywhere that has people who don't know my name without my suit. I'll meet you on the roof in five… maybe less." He ducked swiftly into the maze of tomes, grabbing the one he'd been reading and its thicker sequel, from what the spy could catch. "I'm gonna need this… unlimited power source… how should I help if I don't know? ... why did I say _aliens?_ " And so on as he made his way to the exit out of Phil's sight.

Guess he was going to the roof.

It took him a while, but he eventually found stairs up to it with the help of a bamboozled library assistant and went to stand by the cloaked Quinjet they would be taking to the Helicarrier. The agent didn't know _why_ he was meeting his target on the roof; he was mostly just glad the jet fit on the library and that no one had noticed its landing. It had taken him a little over two minutes to get to the roof and one minute later, he caught sight of a figure swinging his way across the city.

Spider-man.

The director had tracked that crazy guy down a while back for a meeting and came back in only a _minutely_ worse mood than he had been in when he left. Apparently, the vigilante wouldn't join the team, but had offered his help if anything major came up. Speaking of that… was Spider-man swinging his way? Phil narrowed his eyes behind his sunglasses as the arachnid-themed hero landed on the library in a crouch before getting up smoothly.

"And I'm back! Miss me, Agent Coulson?" he wiggled his fingers in a wave at the confused spy. The air cleared when he pulled down his half-mask and pushed his goggles up from his eyes, leaving Phil staring at Peter's young face. "Surprise! I mean, _I'm_ surprised head-honcho didn't explain who you were picking up, but whatevs! _You_ must be surprised!" The man stood shell-shocked for a minute while Spidey rambled as he tried to adjust his perception to include "Spider-man is a teenager." Like the good secret agent he was, it only took him as long Tony Stark's attention span was. Which was to say, not very long at all.

"You could say that," Phil smirked while the hero replaced his disguise. "Hop in." He discreetly pressed the "Uncloak" button on the remote hidden when he clasped his hands behind his back. He also enjoyed the low, impressed whistle that traveled shockingly well despite the mask blocking the boy's mouth.

"Sweet ride," he commented and followed Phil inside, taking a load off on one of the middle seats and setting the same duffel next to him. "Where 're we off to?"

"A floating base." He left the remarkably young superhero to determine his own assumption of what "floating" meant in this context.

"Sea or air?"

Phil gave Spidey a respectful glance; most people would just assume and keep it to themselves. "Both. We call it the Helicarrier. But first, we have to pick up another person."

* * *

 **We are somehow up to nearly a hundred favorites, 168 follows, and 38 reviews! Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who continues to read, the newcomers that help these numbers climb, and everyone else!**

 **And more magic has happened! We've hit plot, people! Anyways, moving on...**

 **Fury never tells anybody anything, does he? Including Coulson sometimes, which leads to a very confused Phil and Peter rather enjoying his shock. Anyways, I'm drawing a blank for the rest of this author's note, so in summary: Spidey's on his way to crash the Avenger's movie. But if he's with Phil… where's Cap'? You'll find out!**

 **Lucky**

 **To ellainaparker: XD (Sadly, I had to actually look up what that meant, but then I was blushing and smiling for a fair five minutes.)**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: I'd hope I'm able to write a teenager well, seeing as I am one! But all in all, thank you! I really do enjoy reading these reviews and am so happy you keep reading and enjoying my story.**

 **To Dylan-A-Friend: Thanks! Hope you stick around!**

 **To Silvermane1: Well, we all enjoy a good laugh sometimes! Good to see that you're liking my story!**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen: The Captain Has A Fan(boy)

Steve had meant it when he told Director Fury that the Tesseract should've stayed in the ocean. Now it was out there, in the hands of an enemy. The files he had been given, though, the ones with the people they were bringing into help, looked promising. He was curious about meeting Howard's son, and he was sure the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were impressive in their own right. The Hulk was a conundrum, but his alter ego, Dr. Bruce Banner, looked like a nice guy, if a bit of a loner. Yet that could apply to himself as well, based off of his isolation habits after he'd been unfrozen.

Now he was waiting on the roof of his usual gym, one that he suspected S.H.I.E.L.D. had kept the general public away from. And he would admit to jumping when the invisible, hovering plane appeared out of nowhere and descended to land on the roof vertically. The ramp opened down and out, revealing a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in the typical black suit with a receding hairline and a colorfully-clothed individual sitting in the closest seat to the left who was immersed in an exceptionally thick book.

The agent, who had shaken his hand crisply and introduced himself as Phil Coulson, showed him on and where to stow his small bag – which he clearly hadn't shown the costumed person, as they had a duffel propped in the seat next to them and the straps were looped through their arm. The unknown lifted their head from their reading leisurely and did a visible double-take when they saw Steve.

"You told me we were picking up another _person_ ," a male voice accused Agent Coulson, "not freaking _Captain America!"_ He turned his head to look at the blonde and he was met with wide, bug-eye lenses that reflected the light with a gold tint, concealing whatever was below as well as the spider-webbed red mask on his lower face.

"Wow! Pleasure to met you, Captain my Captain. Spider-man, at your service!" Reaching across the plane to meet him halfway, Steve obliged with his offered handshake, suitably impressed with the strength of it, especially because the guy was so skinny. Even though it was hard to tell much from the hoodie he wore, it was obvious that he was much smaller than the super-soldier.

"Steve Rogers." Spider-man cocked his head to the side as if expecting something more, an act that was both unnerving and innocent due to the goggles he wore, then turned to Agent Coulson.

"Have you guys let him outside at _all_ since you've found him?" the man accused while Steve felt the beginnings of a light flush on his cheeks. Had he been _that_ open with his confusion at the oddly dressed newcomer? "Well, Captain Rogers, if you haven't been out and about all that much, then I get a first impression without Triple J's paper of lies tarnishing it! Dreams _do_ come true!"

Steve was hard-pressed not to smile at Spider-man's constant energy, though he was wondering what exactly the papers were saying to "tarnish" people's views of him. From what he saw, he was a nice guy, if a little sarcastic.

"So, I'm Spidey… you already know that… sorry. I'm basically a superhero. Y'know, punch the bad guy, save the city, and never establish a solid relationship with anybody, the whole nine yards. After a while, Fury tracked me down, offered a place on the team, I said no, come find me when the world's ended or there's an alien invasion, and now there's apparently aliens of some sort, but Mr. Agent over here wouldn't give me the info packet until we picked you up." He turned, leaving Steve blinking for a second at the stream of words that had just come out of his mouth, and focused on Agent Coulson for a second. "So, can I have the thing now?"

The older man gave the barest of smiles and handed the brunet a tablet with three folder icons hovering and waiting for him, though the man out of time could see the amusement in his eyes after he took off his sunglasses and handed the same thing to him. Spider-man gave a nod and a murmured thanks before going right back to scrolling through the gathered information.

"Is he always like that?" he asked Agent Coulson when he lingered by his seat.

"No, he was actually really quiet until we got to you."

"Yes, well I have a reputation to maintain, don't I?" Spidey put in much louder than the two whisperers without looking up. Steve didn't flinch, no sir, at the third voice that he thought couldn't hear them. Instead, he gazed down at his own tablet, experimentally pressed one of the icons with his pointer, and scrolled through the documents that popped up as he had seen the superhero doing with his own.

They sat – or in Agent Coulson's case, stood, despite there being plenty of open chairs – like that for a while, the only sound the shuffling when Spider-man finished reading well before Steve and dragged his heavy book back into his lap with ease to continue with his research. The blonde didn't even _try_ to figure out what it was about after catching the word "thermonuclear" at the top in one of the page's sentences.

Eventually, the unnamed and silent pilot spoke up. "We're about forty minutes out from home base, sir." Coulson nodded and moved over to where Steve was watching a green giant tear through what used to be… well, he wasn't even sure anymore.

"So, this Doctor Banner was trying to replicate the serum they used on me?" he questioned, just to be conversational.

"A lot of people were," came the answer. "You were the world's first superhero." A few muttered words floated over from where Spider-man kept reading, sounding suspiciously like "And then I came along." "Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine's original formula."

"Didn't really go his way, did it?"

"Not so much. When he's not that thing, though that guy's like a Stephen Hawking." Steve gave him a confused look.

"He's smart," the arachnid-themed hero called from where he sat pouring over the tome in his lap and tapping his foot hyperactively. "Very, very smart, to put it in simple terms." He got a sheepish smile, and giving a nod of acknowledgement, continued reading. It was amazing how different he was acting from earlier, the bouncy, snarky superhero replaced with a much calmer persona, though that persona was still slightly fidgety.

Beside him, Agent Coulson continued talking. "I gotta say – it's an honor to meet you, officially. I sort of met you, I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping. I mean, I was, I was present, while you were unconscious from-the-ice."

"Cree _py!_ " Spidey singsonged from across the jet, gaining a look from the agent, who followed Steve as he got up from his seat and moved to the cockpit by the pilot. The pilot seemed to be having some trouble not smiling or – God forbid – _laughing_ at his superior.

"You know it's really – it's just a – just a huge honor to have you on board – it's…"

"Well, I hope I'm the man for the job," he voiced to try to put the poor man out of his stuttering misery.

"Oh, you are, absolutely. Ah – we made some modifications to the uniform. I had a little design input."

"The uniform?" Steve reiterated, incredulous. "Aren't the stars and stripes a little… old-fashioned?"

"Everything that's happening, the things that are about to come to light, people might just need a little old-fashioned," the agent finished wisely. The star-spangled man with a plan hummed a little in agreement, then went to sit beside Spider-man. He could tell the superhero was smirking behind his mask at their little exchange.

"If it makes you feel any better about Agent Fanboy's costume ideas," the younger told him under his breath, "just look at me." Spidey giggled a little. "Heh… _Agent Fanboy…"_

* * *

 **Okay, an explanation for why this update is early: I'm in Key Club and am going to DCON (the district convention, all the clubs in the Pacific Northwest come) this weekend! Woo! It's going to be great! But that means I'm leaving Friday and won't be able to post, so it's a tiny bit early this week (I think you all agree with me when I say it's better to have an update early rather than late). Moving on!**

 **I loved writing out Coulson's little conversation with Steve. It's even funnier when you see it in writing rather than hearing it. Of course… I could do both… off to watch Avengers! Again! For like, more than the sixth time! I watch a heck of a lot of Marvel if you can't tell.**

 **Lucky**

 **To ellainaparker: Wasn't planning on stopping!**

 **To twilightserius: It's one of those three, but I'm not saying! Keep reading to find out!**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Yay! And don't worry… Hiro has his ways of getting around…**

 **To fan01: I like to attempt sort-of cliffhangers, but they don't usually seem all that good to me. So I'm glad to see I'm keeping the readers on their toes! There might be a real one later...**

 **To Azaira: First of all, thank you so much for the honest feedback, it'll help me improve in the future. I'd also like to say that I had originally had the boys at a bit older, then had to decrease the age as I realized the plotline I wanted to write wouldn't work with those ages. Yeah, Peter and Hiro will end up as a couple (at some point, they're slow) and I never really liked genderswapping my characters, so I didn't. I recognize that I could've done better, so thank you for pointing the specifics out, but I have no experience in this department at all and had to simply try my best. The entire chapter was written without any solid plan (at one point I was going to add something about Peter having a crush on some boy at school, but that obviously didn't happen). And I agree with the Tony part, I might implement that later (but he'll probably just stay with Pepper either way). I try not to completely warp personality, but it's not like I was sticking to canon in the first place. Anyways, I'm glad you like the rest of my story and thanks again!**

 **Thank you to all those who read and review (and favorite and follow), especially those who help me improve my writing! Y'all are amazing!**


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen: Trading Cards and (More) Fanboying

 **(A/N: No, I will not be doing Loki's little interlude/temper tantrum with the Other. We continue to follow our main characters, Spidey/Peter and Hiro, just in other people's POV's sometimes 'cause I think it's fun. – Lucky)**

When they got close enough to see S.H.I.E.L.D.'s floating fortress, Peter was duly impressed with the hunk of metal and technology and said so. "Nice place ya got here, Agent Coulson."

To his left, Captain Rogers nodded silently, and when he snuck a peek out of the corner of his eye, he had a rather hilarious look of bother bewilderment and awe. Though, he supposed, he would be the same had he been in a coma for the last seventy-odd years, based on the file he had _finally_ gotten to read.

The profiles on the "Avengers" team had contained the bare minimum with no personal details: picture, videos, and a short explanation. He himself wasn't even in there, thankfully Fury had respected his wishes to remain off the group of world-savers. Not that he _wouldn't_ help now that there was a real, world-threatening danger – and there really was with this Loki dude and the Tesseract – but he'd rather not have a larger target on his back or put the team in harm's way with him to blame. Perhaps that was selfish of him, but he didn't want any more death on his hands.

Spider-man wandered back to his duffel and tucked in the last book he had been reading, a collection of papers on gamma radiation by Bruce Banner that he had checked out before the other ones on thermonuclear astrophysics. Those two were interesting reads, though he still liked to stick more to engineering and technology-based sciences, he was still pretty good at the others, if he did say so himself. All the same, he couldn't _believe_ he was about to meet one of _the_ very best scientists of his time and shoved the tomes inside with no little excitement. He was rather giddy.

Captain Rogers went about gathering his own things and they followed the pilot, who broke off to go take care of his plane, and Agent Coulson out onto the ship's deck. He led them out into the bright daylight and across the runway to where a red-haired lady stood waiting. She was in a leather jacket over a red shirt and a gun lay in a thigh holster above her jeggings. Despite her stunning looks and casual clothing – other than the pistol – she had a dangerous air and Spidey did not want to find out why the reason for that was. Especially if it was shown with him as the guinea pig.

"Agent Romanoff," the male spy began introductions, "Captain Rogers and Spider-man. I'm sure you can tell the two apart."

"Ma'am," the blonde nodded with all the 40s manners expected.

"Hey-o!" Spider-man gave a little wave and smiled, suspecting she could tell through his mask.

"Hi," she greeted shortly. The short-haired lady turned to Agent Coulson. "They need you on the bridge; they're starting the face-trace."

"See you there." And with that, he left them alone with Agent Romanoff, who he didn't know what to say to, to be honest. He just wanted to avoid pissing her off.

Thankfully, she took the initiative to start a conversation with Captain Rogers herself. "It was quite the buzz round here, finding you in the ice. Thought Coulson was going to swoon. Did he ask you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?"

"Trading cards?"

"They're vintage. He's very proud." Spidey had his free hand fisted up by his mouth to avoid laughing, his other occupied holding his bag, by now as they were escorted further along the Helicarrier. Across the way, a short, skinnier man with curly hair confusedly dodged busy agents and pilots and overall looking very out of place in a brownish suit jacket and purple button-down. The dark-haired man kept bumping into people as he took it all in and eventually made his way over to them.

"Doctor Banner," Captain Rogers recognized.

The doctor looked up at him nervously after flickering his eyes over at Agent Romanoff. "Oh, yeah, hi. They told me you'd be coming."

"Word is you can find the cube."

"Is that the only word on me?" Dr. Banner inquired curiously.

"Only word I care about," the other assured.

The costumed brunet decided then was a good time to insert himself into their discussion. "Hello! I'm Spider-man!"

"I, uh, can see that," Dr. Banner agreed, evidently amused. "I think I was still around in, you know, civilization, when you started out." His eyes widened, not that the older man could tell with his masking, and he mouthed "wow" to himself.

"Can I just say how amazing it is to meet you? I mean, you're _the_ leading expert on gamma radiation and your papers are just _brilliant_ , I have the book in my bag, I've read it a few times now, I would ask you to sign it, but this copy's from the library…" Spidey trailed off, noticing the shocked expression on his face and the other two staring at him. "Sorry… oh good _lord_ I sounded like Agent Coulson but with less stuttering… I'm sorry." With his middle finger and thumb touching opposite temples, he covered his face effectively in embarrassment.

"It's fine," the object of his acute interest replied. "It's not that often I find someone who is interested in my research and not the… _Other Guy_." That perked the superhero right up, even if Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff were both trying not to laugh, though the former was much more pronounced while the latter only betrayed a glimmer of humor in her eyes.

"Oh, okay," Spider-man shrugged bashfully as he shifted his bag on his shoulder with both hands.

Dr. Banner gave a tiny grin and turned back to the blonde, even though their exchanges were short and halting, it was better than trying to converse with Ms. Romanoff. "So, must be strange for you, all of this."

"Well, this is actually kind of familiar," he smiled softly.

"Gentlemen, you might want to step inside in a minute," the female agent put in. "It's going to get a little hard to breathe."

"You're calling _me_ a gentleman?" the colorful boy questioned quizzically.

"I was talking to the other two."

"Ah, that makes _much_ more sense." In the background, an intercom crackled to life, shouting to the ship something about flight and securing the deck.

"Is this a submarine?" he heard Rogers ask to no one in particular behind him. The two men were at the side, peering over the edge rather than heeding Agent Romanoff's warning. Honestly, Peter would be right over there with them – or one better, hanging off the side just for kicks – but he didn't really want to drop his bag and loose all his stuff. And, he told himself, as scary as the redhead was, he didn't want to leave her by herself.

"Really, they want _me_ in a submerged, pressurized metal container?" Dr. Banner wondered aloud and he almost snorted. No, where would the planes go? There was none of the technology or machinery for that type of transport up here too. Spider-man wasn't sure what was happening, but even he wasn't expecting the one, two… _four_ rotors he saw rise out of the ocean. "Oh no, this is _much_ worse." This time he did snort, letting their guide lead them deeper into the bowels of the ship as it rose into the air and peeping behind to wistfully survey the empty area. He wished he could ride it up farther, to see what it looked like, if it was like his perch with the gargoyles sometimes. As they got closer and farther in, he heard a woman's voice giving authoritative instructions.

"All engines operating," the lady gave out, her dark hair in a ponytail and in the standard S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform now that Spidey could see her in the command center. "S.H.I.E.L.D. emergency protocol one nine three point six in effect."

"Good. Let's vanish." That couldn't be anyone other than Fury. And there he was, in the middle of all the computers, standing like he was born to be there in the same all-black outfit he had been in the last time he saw him.

"Engage retro-reflection panels," the woman ordered one more time.

"Reflection panels engaged," a random agent said from their computer. Looking around, Spider-man caught at least a dozen things happening all at once, from a face-trace on their extensive servers to the very brave soul risking the director's fury – _ha_ – by playing a pixelated Galaga game.

Fury twisted sharply to face the group of newcomers. "Gentlemen. Spider-man."

"Hey, Director Angry," the boy retorted from the back of the group, waving a hand over the men's heads. Captain Rogers walked up and gave the director a ten-dollar bill.

"Doctor, thank you for coming," he ignored the brunet.

"Thanks for asking nicely," Dr. Banner responded sarcastically. "So, um, how long am I staying?"

"Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you're in the wind." The hoodie-wearing teen didn't miss the, maybe, unintentional pun. In the wind. Flying ship. Huh, spies _did_ have a sense of humor.

"Well, where are you with that?" he asserted now that he was in his element, Spidey tuning in discreetly from where he was being essentially forgotten.

"We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet." When did Agent Coulson get there? Romanoff shifted away now that she wasn't needed, Captain Roger's main purpose being standing there seeming perplexed by all the modern-day machines. "Cell phones… laptops, if it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us." He was suddenly glad he'd had to sell his phone and laptop for food money a while back.

Agent Romanoff rejoined their back-and-forth. "It's still not going to find them in time."

"You have to narrow your field," Banner explained intelligently. "How many spectrometers do you have access to?"

"How many are there?" the director asked rather arrogantly.

"Call every lab you know. Tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking algorithm. We can rule out a few places. Do you have somewhere for me to work?"

"Start with basic cluster recognition," the spider blushed when all the eyes of the chattering group turned to him. "What? I know _some_ stuff."

"Agent Romanoff," Director Fury addressed, "would you show Doctor Banner and Spider-man to their laboratory, please?"

"Wait, I'm going _with_ him?" Spidey said, astonished.

"That's what you're here for, right? To help?"

"Yeah, but why the heck do you need _me_ in the lab, you have one of the most brilliant minds on the planet, and I'm _sure_ I saw Tony Stark on the team roster files!"

Dr. Banner injected himself into the baffled teenager's protests. "I'm sure you could help. It's always good to have another brain to pick." The boy opened his mouth, closed it, and resorted to just nodded meekly when he wasn't sure how to react to the compliment.

"You're going to love it, doc," their fiery-haired agent-in-charge told him. "You boys got all the toys."

"Really?" he asked curiously. "Do you have the com-meter sixty-four?"

"I'm not sure – "

"Oh, that's fine."

Spider-man decided to take pity on the beautiful spy, who somehow looked out of her league next to the knowledgeable doctor. "It's this handy-dandy little thing…"

* * *

 **Didja miss me?! Doesn't matter! I'm back!**

 **So, Spider-man is apparently not a gentleman by anyone's standards, including his own. Next time, Tony! And Loki! And Thor… there's a lot of new characters next chapter.**

 **Lucky**

 **To Dylan-A-Friend: XD. But yay for plot! And that second review was pure gold. Sorry for the lack of Tony-Peter snark, but hopefully when Tony does come in, it won't disappoint!**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Yeah, if Tony was offered a ride he'd probably just snark at them and fly off in his armor. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten the chance to watch Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. or any other of the Marvel TV shows, but I really want to! I need to! I had a great time at DCON (someone did get caught making purple and some boys got caught sneaking out to get pizza as they were going back to their rooms), but I was SO FLARKING EXHAUSTED when I got back. I didn't get to go to bed until 1-2 in the morning each night and was just DEAD on Sunday (which, of course, was when I was trying to do my homework).**

 **To twilightserius: I'm so evil! (even though I die inside after every sad chapter) ;P**

 **To Silvermane1: Yay! My sense of humor isn't absolutely disastrous!**

 **To MattKennedy: Thank you! I do believe that fun stuff is next chapter…**


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen: Revelations and Familiar Faces

*TINY TIME SKIP* **(A/N: I'm too lazy to figure how long this is… I'm sitting in World History periodically laughing with my friend at hilarious text conversations online. This is probably after Captain America and Black Widow have gone after Loki in Germany, but before they come back with Tony Stark and Thor. – Lucky)**

Hiro had been in the duffel bag for a _very_ long time, much longer than he had anticipated or wanted. After Peter tried to drop him off outside of the library while changing – keyword being _tried_ – and he slipped back into the luggage by way of a dangling pant-leg that hadn't been tucked all the way. He felt and listened while the swinging motion gave way to talking and the smooth takeoff and flight of a plane. Though the sudden, vertical ascents and descents confused him, as he thought planes moved up and out at the same time.

Listening, he heard another voice join the agent and Spider-man, then the introductions and how even his witty friend stumbled over his first sentence in the presence of the living legend. Silence for a while, a telltale clue someone had given Spidey the information he had been bugging Agent Coulson for a little while back. Some shuffling and a few close calls when he had to dodge the books that were being put away and taken out periodically.

Somehow nobody noticed when he pressed a green eye to an opening in the zipper to catch a glimpse of Captain Rogers. He was exactly how Hiro had seen on the history documentary, not a day older. Blonde hair parted cleanly, blue eyes, and an old-fashioned outfit that consisted of a tucked-in button-down and a brown jacket.

The quiet went on for a while, with a brief interruption when Hiro had to suppress chuckles at the "serious secret agent's" clear fawning over Captain America. The plane set down as smoothly as it had taken off and he had to avoid Peter's attentions one more time. Walking, talking, Spider-man embarrassing himself in front of one of his idols – if the long, _truly_ one-sided discussions in the boy's room were any hint – so much that he didn't hear his travel partner's laughter even with all his senses.

Hiro recognized Director Fury's voice before Dr. Banner took over the conversation, and finally the two scientists, however much Peter liked to deny the fact that officially wasn't one, were led into another room, from what he could tell, by Agent Romanoff and left alone. Now all he had to do was wait in the duffel and bide his time, which sounded easy enough, but it was ruddy boring.

"Pencil, pencil, or even a pen would do," Hiro heard Spider-man carp to himself mutedly. "In the bag!" The cat barely had time to blink before his ride was exposed and he was blinded with bright fluorescent lighting while having a bit of a flashback to the time he snuck along to Midtown High. " _Hiro!_ What the heck are _you_ doing _here?!"_ He replied in the only way he could think. He angled his head down and looked up with the widest, cutest eyes he could muster and mewed pitifully. "Never mind, I don't _want_ to know. _Uuuugh_ … it's like all the other times combined!"

"What?" Dr. Banner said confusedly. The kit could recognize his voice, though it was much less muffled now that he was finally free, as he crawled out of the carry-on. "Why is there a cat?"

"You're not allergic, right?"

"No."

"Well," Spidey started with a small groan, offering his arm as a ramp when the animal began trying to climb him. "Hiro's my cat. And I _thought_ I left him at home, but as you can see, he is _not_ at home. He has a penchant for going where he's not supposed to, and I swear, I _never_ know how he does it." Hiro strutted up his arm, allowing his midnight coat to shine sleekly in the light as he gave the famous scientist a once over with the kitty equivalent of a smile.

Placing himself in his usual spot on his shoulder and hooking a claw in Spider-man's hood to pull it down, he jumped up to the teen's brown hair to flump down comfily. "Sometimes he's worse than _me_ with the troublemaking." Hiro purred happily and watching Dr. Banner's amused gaze as he studied the lightning-notch in his ear, shrugged, and went back to work.

"Okay," he agreed with his head down and back to work. "Fury's the one you have to worry about. Here, let me check your work." Spider-man swiped over and up on his screen, sending the notes across the other to the one the older man was working on with a satisfied hum. The hazel-eyed genius read them over, his eyes flicking from scribbled equation to note to formula. "That's… _good._ " He almost sounded surprised and Hiro growled a bit. Why did everyone assume that heroes didn't have any brains? " _Really_ good. Wow. How'd you come up with this?"

"Oh, I just –" Some random agent burst in through the door, sending a befuddled glance at the kit on Spider-man's head and a weirdly terrified one at the good doctor, and he said that with _out_ sarcasm for once.

"Captain America and Agent Romanoff are back," he informed them timidly. "With Iron Man and an individual named Thor as well. Loki will be coming by this room. Do not leave it until he has passed and been secured. Then join Director Fury and the rest in the conference room." With that, the never-named S.H.I.E.L.D. spy ducked out and was gone. The two brown-haired technologists locked eyes with each other and Dr. Banner raised an eyebrow, causing Hiro to snigger atop the younger's head.

"I guess we're staying here," Dr. Banner stated.

The spider in the room cocked his head to the side, staring with those wide bug-eyes. "Did we have other plans you forgot to tell me?" In his head, he mulled over the name "Thor." He was sure he'd heard it somewhere before, and it wasn't like it was a common name.

"… no."

"Then we're good." A sudden commotion from outside drew their attentions to the one wide window the lab had to the outside… well, not world, hallway, though that didn't sound as good. Practically an entire platoon of men was occupied in escorting someone down the hallway.

The unknown was male, with slicked-back, bordering on greasy, black hair and piercing green eyes when he turned his gaze on them. He was in maybe one of the weirdest, but coolest, outfits he had ever seen, all green and dark leather with golden accents. But what really unnerved the wizard-turned-feline was the energy around the being.

The guy _radiated_ magic.

Deep, sickly magic that was torn and sharp around the edges. Magic that seeped in creeping tendrils around him in a dark, swampy green that tried to infect anything it could touch. Hiro didn't like him one bit, and it wasn't because he thought he was the only magic-user in this universe, or because the bloke's magic just felt _unnatural_ and magic was supposed to be a force of nature. No, he didn't like his deceptive magics, but what set him completely off was his _eyes_.

The green eyes that were like his verdant ones but dimmed and dulled yet full of lies and chaos and tortures to come. Hiro held back a shiver, though allowed the rumbling growl to resonant in his chest. "Chill, Hiro. _Jeesh_ , you didn't react this bad to _Flash_ … of course, you tried to claw Flash's face off… _twice_ …" The noise didn't stop until the entourage had passed by their workplace, and even then, it lingered for at least a minute longer after they were gone.

The kit didn't like the way that "Loki" looked at Dr. Banner, almost in morbid anticipation of something, before studying Spider-man in a curious manner, his eyes latching onto Hiro. Peter was his friend, dammit, and he _liked_ the soft-spoken scientist. If that git thought, he would get _any_ where close to _either_ of them…

"Excuse me?" the other human being in the room questioned. "Who's 'Flash' why did his parents name him that?"

Spidey snickered at his idol's unfiltered opinion, something he didn't get to see all that often past the mask of quiet nervousness. "Nah, he named himself that. Though, at the time, he probably didn't understand all of its… connotations. He probably though it was just better than ' _Eugene_.'" The same agent from earlier opened the door again and gestured stiffly for them to follow. Hiro got the feeling Dr. Banner wasn't exactly welcome among many of the staff of this flying ship, and they only seemed to tolerate the younger vigilante.

They traipsed through the interior of the machine, through stark, boring hallways that could use a color other than "bland" in his humble opinion. The cat, who nobody batted an eye at, oddly enough, moved down to his ride's shoulder to allow him to pull up his hood for the full effect of his costume, which while colorful, did a good job of hiding his face. Though Hiro personally though it would be weirder if someone tried to dress up like a bat or something, and much more intimidating. Not something you wanted if you were trying to get people to trust you if you're trying to save them.

The group passed dozens of identical doorways and suits before getting to the conference room at last. In it, stood Steve Rogers in his Captain America suit, a display of red-white-and-blue that looked like someone had draped him in an American flag and was somehow even brighter than Spider-man's. That might've been from the dirt on the latter's, though.

The female agent with a ponytail – whose nametag read "Hill" – was off to the side, and a new face stood awkwardly as well. Hiro narrowly avoided gasping, which would've been pretty suspicious for a cat, and a small choking noise came from Spidey until he covered it up by clearing his throat, getting a weird look from Dr. Banner.

* * *

 **I know I said I'd be sticking with what the characters in Avengers look like in the movie. And yes, I know I just described Loki with green eyes while his are blue in the movie. Sorry! Just roll with it. This story is quite obviously not entirely canon-compliant. Moving on!**

 **If you couldn't tell by now, I'm faking my way through all the science-y technical stuff with the geniuses. I am a sophomore in high school and definitely not a genius. So, all I do is steal that stuff from the movie and, you know, fake it 'til ya make it!**

 **And yes, I did just half-heartedly dis Batman. This doesn't mean I don't like Batman or DC. I think those comics are flarking amazing, like Marvel. I LOVE SUPERHERO COMICS! I just enjoy Marvel slightly more… please don't kill me…**

 **One more thing – and I know this is really long, apologies – is a couple questions.**

 **1) I write slow and am afraid you guys are going to catch up too fast to where I'm currently working in the story. Our options are either me updating ONCE weekly or y'all catching up and then waiting for a long time for each chapter to finish because I refuse to rush myself, which would decrease the quality of my writing (which is already not the best). Answer in the poll.**

 **2) I'm afraid my A/N's are too long and/or annoying. Maybe this is just my insecurities talking, but… just please tell me if I should cut it out and get back to the story or continue. I will keep answering reviews at the bottom either way. Please answer in the other poll. They will both be closed after 1 ½ weeks.**

 **Lucky**

 **To ellainaparker: Thanks! I'd like to think so, but I'm not so sure sometimes.**

 **To Entrusting: Ha! XD. I remember that part from the other fics! It was hilarious!**

 **To MattKennedy: It's one of my favorite little details from the movie, I had to put it in!**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Agreed! And you're welcome, it's my pleasure. I love to write, this is just me sharing. I was afraid I was making it too serious, so I'm glad it's a good balance.**

 **To 18Dragon: I'm not sure that's actually going to happen (sorry to disappoint), but there may be some small details/fun stuff later. Much later, so please hang in there!**

 **To The Red Dementor: Thanks! There'll be some minor Loki-Hiro interaction, but nothing major anytime soon.**

 **To Angelagutnav: Thanks!**

 **To Dylan-A-Friend: I loved it!**

 **To Guest: I'm sorry. That's all I can say. I know I can talk a lot sometimes (like here), but this is just me being me. If you're talking about the very first A/N in Chapter One, I know that was long and ridiculous. I hope to improve next time. It makes me sad to hear that you aren't enjoying my story, but I'd love to get some feedback about which parts you didn't like specifically.**

 **To xiu (Guest): Aw, thank you so much! You flatter me.**


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen: Silver-tongued Snakes and New Arrivals

The new bloke had long, dirty-blonde hair and a brawler's build, his muscled arms coming out from an odd, sleeveless outfit that looked like Norse armor. This was for certain: that "individual" was the Thor they had heard about. And he was the exact same man Hiro and Peter had helped with directions, albeit dressed much nicer than that time. Everyone was focused in on the screen that Agent Romanoff lingered by, which showed both Director Fury and the git from earlier – Loki.

"In case it's unclear," Fury was saying to the magic-user, who was trapped in a formidable clear cell, "you try to escape – you so much as scratch that glass –" Off to the side, the dark man pressed a button, causing the floor to swivel open and rushing winds to fill whichever room the two were in. The high-pitched whistling transmitted awfully through the speakers, throwing feedback and whines that caused not only Spider-man to wince. "Thirty thousand feet straight down in a steel trap. You get how that works?" He pressed the button again, shutting the wind out as the doors shut, and Spidey breathed a soft sigh of relief. "Ant. Boot."

"Drama queen," the boy scoffed to himself, though Hiro grumbled in agreement.

"It's an impressive cage," Loki conceded and the people who hadn't met him yet now understood why he was the Norse god of trickery and lies with that voice like honey. "Not built, I think, for me."

"Built for something a lot stronger than you."

"Oh, I've heard." The god turned towards the camera, his eyes lit up with madness and murder, not at all like his own, Hiro decided. He noticed Romanoff's sharp eyes flicker up to watch Dr. Banner. "A mindless beast – makes play he's still a man… how desperate are you, that you call on such lost creatures to defend you?" The animal on the teenaged superhero's shoulder didn't quite manage to hold in a low growl at that jab. The doctor was a good person, no matter how much damage his alter ego cause, no matter what others though, and he was having a hard enough time with his guilt without this ray of sunshine looking down on him

Fury's face screwed up in even more of a frown, if that was possible given how much contempt for the god in the cage was already being communicated quite clearly. "How desperate am I? You threaten my world with war, you steal a force you can't hope to control, you talk about peace and you kill 'cause it's fun. You have made me very desperate. You might not be glad that you did."

"Oo. It burns you to have come so close," Loki mocked madly, "to have the Tesseract, to have power – unlimited power, and for what? A warm light for all mankind to share?" A pause. One with tension crackling in the air and a mutual dislike for the pale snake. "And then to be reminded what real power is."

"Never mind. They're both drama queens," Spider-man amended his earlier observation.

"Well, let me know if 'real power' wants a magazine or something," the director finished the conversation with a smirk before walking off. The image that had been playing in the conference room shut down. Captain Rogers looked up from where he had been transfixed and seemed to realize there were other people occupying the uncomfortable silence that hadn't been there before.

Dr. Banner finally broke it. "He really grows on you, doesn't he?"

"Loki's gonna drag this out," the blonde nodded. "So…" He trailed off, catching sight of the kit perched on Spidey. "Is that…"

"A cat?" Spider-man finished, bored.

"Yes. Why…"

"Is he here? Because he stowed away. It's a long story."

"Right…" Steve gave the black feline a quick, bamboozled once-over before finally getting back on track with his strategizing. "So, Thor, what's his play?"

"He has an army called the Chitauri," he told everyone with his typical old-style accent. "They are not of Asgard nor any world known. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the Earth, in return, I suspect, for the Tesseract." At least the extraterrestrial wasn't saying "thou" or "thy" anymore. Darcy must've gotten through his thick skull since the young duo had seen them on the streets of the city.

"An army," the All-American breathed like he was still trying to wrap his mind around it, "from outer space?"

"So, he's building another portal," Dr. Banner summed up. "That's what he needs Erik Selvig for."

"Selvig?" Thor looked up with wide eyes.

"The astrophysicist?" Spidey half-answered, half-asked. He remembered the older man they had seen with the group, the one who was holding the map upside-down and the one who had later revealed himself and Jane – Foster! – to be the famous scientists he had then fanboyed over for a short period of time. Hiro remembered Peter's rambling when he met the woman and her partner and remembered the chuffing he worked hard to hide with the laughter Darcy didn't try to.

"Yes, he's an astrophysicist," the curly-haired gamma-expert said to the both of them.

"He's a friend," Thor revised strongly.

"Loki has them under some sort of spell – along with one of ours," Agent Romanoff explained in a bitter tone and the kit wondered how close she had been to the person under Loki's spell, which sounded an awful lot like the Imperious Curse. He didn't like it one bit.

"I wanna know why Loki let us take him," Captain Rogers brought up. "He's not leading an army from here." The brunet spider hummed in agreement as the other nodded slowly as she tried to analyze all the possible angles.

"I don't think we should be focusing on Loki," Dr. Banner brushed away for now. "That guy's brain is a bag full of cats, you can smell crazy on him."

"Truth!" the boy declared with a laugh while Hiro gave the man who had spoken an offended look at the comparison between cats and Loki, one he did not appreciate.

"Have care how you speak," Thor warned darkly. "Loki is beyond reason, but he is of Asgard, and he is my brother."

"He killed eighty people in two days," Romanoff shot back emotionlessly.

Thor squirmed under the assassin's scrutiny and offered weakly, "He's adopted?"

"I think it's about the mechanics," the part-time green goliath mused. "Iridium, what do they need the iridium for?" One of the doors opened to reveal Agent Coulson leading a very familiar face out, because, really. Who wouldn't recognize Tony Stark? He sauntered in like he owned the place with not a hair out of place, despite what Hiro had heard about him flying in inside the Iron Man suit.

"It's a stabilizing agent," he said to the doctor, turning back to his escorting agent. "I'm saying, take a weekend; I'll fly you to Portland. Keep love alive." He turned back to the group in general, though focused more on Dr. Banner. "Means the portal won't collapse on itself like it did at S.H.I.E.L.D." The billionaire kept ambling around as Agent Coulson peeled off from his shoulder, heading towards Thor this time. "No hard feelings Point-break, you got a mean swing."

The Asgardian seemed very confused at the assertion and his eyes followed the man around the room. The brunet was over at the main consoles now, where Director Fury had stood the first time Spider-man and his furry friend were shown the room, looming over all the workers at their computers. "Also, means the portal can open as wide and stay open as long as Loki wants." The alleged genius surveyed the room and addressed the agents working at the rows of computers,

"Ah, raise the mizzenmast, ship the topsails." Everyone in his vicinity gave him a strange look, bar Spidey and Hiro, who were stifling chuckles and chuffs respectively. All of a sudden, he whipped out an arm and pointed at the bloke in the back. "That man is playing Galaga!" All eyes were now on the aforementioned man. "Thought we wouldn't notice, but we did." Stark went back to standing over the masses, covered one eye and twisted around rapidly. "How does Fury even see these?"

Agent Hill, looking rather disgruntled and irritated, riposted back, "He turns."

"Sounds exhausting." He absentmindedly fiddled with the monitors, poking and prodding random things and slipping a tiny device on the underside of one. Hiro tilted his head to the side when no one other than his spider-friend noticed, the boy making a perplexed noise he was sure only the cat could hear. "The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. Only major component he still needs is a power source – of high energy density. Something to – kick-start the cube."

"When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?" she inquired, wrinkling her nose.

"Last night," he waved off – literally – with a hand. "The packet, Selvig's notes, the extraction theory papers – am I the only one who did the reading?"

Spidey raised a hand comically, smirking under the mask as he had a little flashback to when he was actually in high school. "On the plane. Agent wouldn't give them to me 'til we picked up Stars-'n-Stripes, though."

"Anyone other than Bug Boy?"

"Spiders are arachnids."

"Okay… point."

"Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?" Captain Rogers intervened after the reluctant admittance.

"He'd have to heat the cube to a hundred and twenty million kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier," Dr. Banner noted.

"Unless," Stark pointed out, "Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the quantum tunneling effect."

"Well if he could do that he could achieve heavy-ion fusion at any reactor on the planet," Spider-man objected and scratched the feline's head when he was nuzzled affectionately. The company owner gave them an odd look, probably wondering how the kit got there with – or without, he wasn't judging – the director's consent.

"Finally. Some people who speak English."

"Is that what just happened?" the American blonde whispered to the others as Tony and Bruce shook hands and then the two red-themed superheroes high-fived. The force spun the happy teenager around in his swivel chair as he successfully – for now – avoided another fanboy episode, which was probably baffling a number of people. How he flipped over just a scientist, even a relatively accomplished one, but not Tony Stark, who while still a scientist/engineer, was also famous worldwide.

"It's good to meet you, Doctor Banner," said engineer greeted officially. "Your work on anti-electron collisions is unparalleled. And I'm a huge fan of the way you – lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster."

"… Thanks."

"And you're cool too, Webhead."

"Thank you!"

"Doctor Banner is only here to track the cube," Director Fury's voice joined in from nowhere. Hiro chuffed lightly when he felt Spidey's shoulder flinch unnoticeably. "And Spider-man is here to assist him."

"Really? I thought you just wanted more dumb muscle."

"I was hoping you might join them," the African-American man went on as if he hadn't just been interrupted in a way that made them all wonder whether he was insulting them or himself.

"I'd start with that stick of his," Captain Rogers suggested, not seeing Hiro's ears perk up when he uttered the word "stick," and then even more with his next sentence. "It may be magical, but it works an awful lot like a H.Y.D.R.A. weapon."

"I don't know about that," Director Fury responded, "but it is powered by the cube. And I'd like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys."

"Monkeys?" Thor grimaced in skepticism. "I do not understand…"

"I do!" Steve shouted a little too loudly. Every head in the room turned towards him as he fidgeted under the sudden attention. "I… I understood that reference…"

Tony raised his eyebrows and spun steadily around from the captain. "Shall we play, Doctor? Spidey?"

"We shall," Spider-man concurred brightly.

"This way, sir," Dr. Banner led the trio out of the room, back to the laboratory with Hiro beaming on the youngest's shoulder.

* * *

 **So... exciting news that you may or may not care about due to the lack of relation to the story! I somehow got a solo in choir! Like, how does THAT happen?! I literally tried out because I thought I WOULDN'T get it, so it wasn't as stressful as it might have been if I thought I had a real chance. Unfortunately, I got a mild cold between online auditions and our teacher telling us who got it. I'm hanging on and hoping it eases up on my throat by the Thursday concert. Besides that...**

 **I love this part of the movie! It was so much fun writing it with Hiro and Peter (and yes, I did give one of Bruce's lines to the latter, but I felt it was a good way to get Tony to take Spidey's smarts seriously). But another chapter down!**

 **The A/N poll is tied with one vote for no more A/N's and one person who doesn't care. That is to say, things are in favor of A/N's disappearing forever.**

 **The other poll – update frequency – has... no votes... so, that's a thing.**

 **Please vote on both if you haven't already!**

 **Lucky**

 **To RirilsNotTaken: Thanks! And yeah, I had noticed (which included me having a fangirl freak-out when I finally realized that meant Loki was being controlled. It took me far too long to figure that out).**

 **To winfield56: Yep! He'll get there eventually, so hang in there. It's amazing to think of my story reaching all the way to the Netherlands, even if it is just a website. That's like... 4,835 miles away! And yes, of course I looked it up.**

 **To Dylan-A-Friend: Always good to hear, I love getting your reviews!**

 **To MattKennedy: Always ;)**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Gotta love DC (though Marvel has them beat by a long shot in the movie department, in my opinion)! Joker really is an interesting character, though the problems they have with displaying him in the movies kind of remind me of Marvel's previous issues with Spider-man. No one could get either of them quite right, but that tells you that they're just written THAT GOOD (as in, almost impossible to replicate effectively). Peter was definitely cooler in this... but you never know what will happen in the future... he is a teenager after all.**

 **To Silvermane1: Loki won't really be getting any real help in this story. This isn't one of those stories where he gets reformed and all is well. Yeah, I know that it is canon that he was mind controlled (something I squealed about when I found out), but we're basically ignoring that and rolling with "Loki is an evil git." Sorry if that's not what you were hoping for. I will admit, though, that I absolutely love the good!Loki stories and that type of thing (I wrote one or two once upon a time).**


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen: Differing Perspectives

"Hi _ro!_ " The kit looked down from his discovered perch on a tall shelf at the back of the lab. Below him, the brown-haired teen had his arms crossed as he craned his neck up to find him. "Hiro get _down_ from there!" His only response was to lower himself into a laying position that resembled the Sphinx and rest his head lazily on his front paws. He really didn't see _why_ he needed to get down, other than the fact that he was embarrassing his friend – which, honestly, he was really enjoying watching the annoyed boy glare at him through his goggles – or that said friend was afraid he'd fall, in which case, he was offended at his lack of confidence in Hiro. "I know you like it up there, but _really?_ " Spider-man huffed.

"How'd you even get a cat in here?" Mr. Stark wondered, glancing up from the screen he and Dr. Banner were crowded around momentarily. "Didn't think Eye-patch was a cat person."

"He snuck in in my duffel bag," the hero replied distractedly as he crawled up the wall to the shelf's height. "And somehow nobody noticed."

"Talented cat."

"Yes, well, you could say that." Spidey reached out carefully for the animal, who took great amusement in jumping away and down to the counter at the last moment. "Dang it! Or, you could say he's a dirty little criminal." Hiro smirked and turned up his nose while bounding lankily down to the floor, then up to the table the two adults were working at. Dr. Banner absentmindedly scratched the top of his head to a pleased purr as he read through the text, lips moving silently. Spider-man had apparently decided that he was going to stay on the ceiling for now, walking over casually to stand upside-down by the two scientists. A slight sniff caused both to jump out of their skins and whip around to find the third part of their group beside them. "Hey, guys."

"Sneaky little bastard," Stark muttered exasperatedly, though he could tell there was an underlying current of humor.

"Yep, that's me!" he agreed before pushing his lenses up off his eyes, into his hair, exposing chocolate eyes and squinting past them at the monitor. "Hm. Interesting readings."

"Yeah, Selvig's reports on the Tesseract."

"How do they compare to the scepter?" In answer, Dr. Banner grabbed one of the many devices strewn across the room and went to stand by the spear. With a steady hand, he ran it along the length as Hiro watched him with sharp green eyes.

"The gamma readings are definitely consistent with Selvig's reports on the Tesseract," he confirmed, continuing his diagnostic. "But it's gonna take _weeks_ to process."

"If we bypass their mainframe," Tony mused as his fingers flew across the high-tech screen, "and direct route to the Homer cluster we can clock this at around six hundred teraflops."

Banner let out a small smile. "All I packed was a toothbrush."

"I didn't," Spidey realized and flipped down from the ceiling with nary a sound, going to work at another monitor near where Hiro still sat watching everything evenly. The kit jumped up cheerily and declared his rightful place in the boy's hair as soon as he stopped moving. They made quite the sight: Spider-man, minus the goggles, with a black cat in his hair.

Stark laughed a bit at all three. "You know, you should come by Stark Tower sometime. You too, Webhead. Top ten floors – all R and D. You'd love it, it's a candy land."

"Thanks, but… last time I was in New York I kind of broke… Harlem," the gamma expert turned him down hesitantly.

"As absolutely amazing as that offer sounds," the arachnid started, while simultaneously keeping his face carefully neutral, "I'm busy." He kept his head down until he had a reasonable excuse to turn around and pick up a tool laying by where Hiro had previously sat, mouthing silently "Holy crud, Tony Stark just asked me to come work in his lab!" The cat chuffed as his not-owner went back to his work on the fancy touchscreen, the other two brainiacs still bantering in the background.

"Come _on!_ " Tony protested. "You can't be busy _all_ the time!"

"You'd be surprised," he whispered to himself, though Hiro caught it with the same wry smile the boy had on under his kerchief. The statement was correct, while probably not in the way the man was thinking. There wasn't often a moment in the day or night that Peter wasn't dressed up as Spider-man and helping, trying to find food, trying to find water, hiding from an assortment of unsavory characters, or a combination of a few. Sleep was a rare luxury lately. Unfortunately, he had an inkling of a feeling that the teenager's real reason had something to do with the horribly misplaced blame he had on himself for getting everyone close to him killed.

"Well, I promise a stress-free environment," he continued to propound. "No tension, no surprises." The billionaire sauntered up behind Dr. Banner and promptly poked him in the side with something akin to a miniature cattle prod.

" _Ow!_ "

" _Hey!_ " And that would be Captain Rogers, who now marched up to Stark angrily and accusingly, causing Hiro to question his motives. Sure, if he was trying to defend a friend from something he saw as rude or mean, that was cool with him, he was all for it! Or there was the more-than-slightly offensive version of he thought of the nice, quiet doctor as a ticking time bomb who could hurt or kill everybody on board. "Are you _nuts?_ "

"Jury's out!" Mr. Stark proclaimed, and Hiro really needed to decide what to call the man. He kept flipping between Tony, Stark, and Mr. Stark in his head because the first sounded too friendly for someone of his stature, the second was too callus for someone he was beginning to like, and the third was too formal for the entertaining – read, _childish_ – brunet. He could see similarities and clear difference between him and Peter. Both overly excited about science, always ready with a quip – though Peter was more withdrawn around people lately – and brown-haired, brown-ish eyed. Chocolate versus hazel. While the comparisons whizzed through his head, the high-strung men were still talking. Mr. Stark, what Hiro had decided on for now, had turned to Dr. Banner. "You really have got a lid on it, haven't you? What's your secret? Mellow jazz, bongo drums, huge bag of weed?"

"Is _everything_ a joke to you?" the war captain accused, missing the raised-eyebrow look that Spider-man was giving him. He was accusing _Mr. Stark_ of that when he was in the same room as a guy who patrolled the city night and day, making cracks at criminals and spewing snarky commentary the whole time?

"Funny things are," he gestured with the stick-prod-thing.

"Threatening the safety of everyone on this ship isn't _funny_ ," the taller man cleared up seriously. "No offense, doc."

"How was that not supposed to be offensive?" Spidey murmured over by the screen he was typing away at. No one heard him, of course, but Hiro grumbled protectively in accordance.

"No, it's alright. I wouldn't have come aboard if I couldn't handle pointy things," Dr. Banner assured them with a forced cheeriness.

The cocky inventor started walking carelessly around the room again. "You're tip-toeing, big man. You need to strut."

"And _you_ need to focus on the problem, Mr. Stark," Captain Rogers maintained, uptight.

"You think I'm not? Why did Fury call us in? Why now, why not before? What isn't he telling us? I can't do the equation unless I have all the variables." The internationally famous Iron Man grabbed a silver bag of blueberries, the irony not lost on Spider-man as he kept from laughing hysterically and causing them to question his mental stability even more than they probably already did as his eyes caught on the silver accents of the enhanced man's blue suit. The superhero with the kit fidgeted nervously with the end of his gloves as the two watched the exchange with growing anxiety. There were good points being made – and he _definitely_ thought that Mr. Stark had some valid concerns! – but the conversation was getting a little too close for comfort with the whole "secrets" theme. The boy's identity was one big secret, and he'd rather _not_ the whole Helicarrier find out.

"You think Fury's hiding something." And yet they kept on going, oblivious to Spider-man's inner panic. Hiro sympathized with his plight.

"He's a spy," Mr. Stark enlightened them obviously. "Captain, he's _the_ spy. His secrets have secrets." He popped some fruit in his mouth before turning to Dr. Banner. "It's bugging him too, isn't it? And him?" The finger was then pointed at the skittishly hyperactive spider a little farther away from their group.

"Uh, ah," the doctor stammered as he tried to re-immerse himself in the scepter. "I just wanna finish my work here…"

"Doctor?" Captain Rogers enforced, not unkindly.

He sighed, taking his thin-framed glasses off tired eyes "'A warm light for all mankind,' Loki's jab at Fury about the cube."

"I heard it."

"Well, I think that was meant for you." All eyes followed the loose gesture to the man with a blue torch in his chest, who simply offered him the snack bag. "Even if Barton didn't tell Loki about the tower, it was still all over the news."

"The Stark Tower? That big ugly –" The star-spangled man cut off when Mr. Stark gave him a look, and without looking down, Hiro knew his friend was giving him the same half-glare for insulting a "pinnacle of modern technology," as Peter had fawned over it a few days ago when it first was announced. They'd stayed up, the kit rather unwillingly, to watch it light up like a Christmas tree for the first time, right before they were snatched up by Agent Coulson and Co. "—building in New York?"

"It's powered by an arc reactor," Spidey spoke up, and Hiro chuffed shortly when the captain jumped, as if he'd forgotten they were there, "self-sustaining energy source. The building runs itself." The red-and-black boy pushed himself lightly from where he'd been leaning on the counter, making his way over to actually be voluntarily social.

"Yeah," Dr. Banner nodded. "For what, a year?"

"It's just the prototype. I'm kind of the only name in clean energy right now, that's what he's getting at," the engineer bragged.

"So, why didn't S.H.I.E.L.D. bring him in on the Tesseract project?"

"Why were they meddling with clean energy anyways?" Spider-man continued the doctor's thought. "They're a military, spy, whatever secret organization. There was no real reason for them to be poking around with it."

"I should probably look into that," Mr. Stark strode around the counter they were at to stand directly beside Captain Rogers, pulling out his phone with one hand, "as soon as my decryption program finishes breaking into all of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s secure files."

"I'm sorry did you say—"

"J.A.R.V.I.S. has been running it since I hit the bridge," he cut the taller man off. "In a few hours I'll know every dirty secret S.H.I.E.L.D. has ever tried to hide." The top-of-the-line phone was shoved into his back pocket, and as an afterthought, he held up the shiny bag again. "Blueberry?" Hiro could feel the boy flinch from his head and nuzzled in further as he tried to send warm, comforting feelings to the panicking vigilante with a – currently – functioning secret identity.

"Yet you're confused about why they didn't want you around," the captain deadpanned.

"An intelligence organization that fears intelligence? Historically, _not_ awesome."

"I think Loki's trying to wind us up. This is a man who means to start a war and if we don't stay focused, he'll succeed. We have orders, we should follow them."

"And when has that _ever_ turned out well for me?" Spidey muttered to himself, unaware that the feline in his hair was thinking the exact same thing. As for getting riled up, _he_ was the one who was doing all that. Mr. Stark was calmly making a point and Dr. Banner had kept on studying the spear with practiced hands as the young hero rejoined him in his work. Hiro's first impression of the All-American had been a good one, as had Peter's, from what he heard in the bag, but if the blonde didn't allow a bit of leeway in his rigid views of the world, he would end up with his worldview broken… or as an isolated hermit.

"Following's not really my style."

"And you're _all_ about style, aren't you?"

"Out of the people in this room," the billionaire proclaimed, "which one is _A_ , wearing a spangly outfit, and _B_ , not of use?"

"Steve, tell me none of this smells a _little_ funky to you?" Dr. Banner tried to mediate between the two. They were either too similar or too different, no one had figured out which yet.

"Just find the cube," the soldier demanded after a second and tramped heavily out of the room uneasily. Observant viridescent irises tracked his movements out to the hallway through the window, glinting when their subject paused after turning, then spun on his heel and headed in the other direction with a purpose.

* * *

 **This one was mostly a lot of talking talking talking and I'm sorry if it was boring. I really love writing this story and fanfiction in general, but I feel that lately my writing has gone down in quality. I'm still always trying my best, so please bear with me! Relatedly, I Apollo-gize for the terrible chapter title (and for the awful Greek-mythology-themed pun I just made). Well, maybe not that second one.**

 **Still no votes for the update schedule! People! Please vote, otherwise it's just automatically once a week and I'll pick a random day! (Sorry if this sounds harsh, I'm kinda sick and rather tired)**

 **On the other hand, there are 5 votes for continued A/N's (aw, you guys!), 4 people who don't care (I don't blame you), and 2 people who want them to stop (that's fair). So, A/N's staying is winning at the moment.**

 **Y'all have 'til Tuesday afternoon to vote! So please do!**

 **Lucky**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Yeah! Sadly, I haven't gotten a chance to see the Captain Marvel movie quite yet (though I really really want to!). But I've read the comics, and those are good, and I can't wait! Carol is just badass.**

 **To ellainaparker: Aw, you're sweet! Thank you! (I literally said this out loud after reading your review then got a weird look from my mom because I was talking to my phone… but that's just life) My solo went well, so yay for that!**

 **To Dylan-A-Friend: And I have a feeling you're right! (More on that in later chapters…)**

 **To Merlin (Guest): Sort-of kind-of. Hiro can't do any real magic in his cat form (though there's a little something in a chapter later on that hopefully you'll stick around to see). Loki… is another conundrum altogether, but – again – there's a tad bit on that in other chapters. I believe Chapter Twenty is where that stuff gets interesting.**


	19. Chapter 19

**I am so so so so sorry! I know I was supposed to update yesterday but I was sick (still am, bleh) and I'm sorry. But it's here now and I'll shut up so you can go read now.**

* * *

Chapter Nineteen: Science Bros

" _That's_ the guy my dad never shut up about?" Mr. Stark sneered as he started back up where he left off on the nearest screen. Dr. Banner left his scanner tool and the magical scepter-thing alone to work on a different monitor across the room, almost as if he was trying to get away from the tense atmosphere. Which left Hiro and Spider-man himself by the glowing blue jewel. "Wondering if they shouldn't have kept him on ice."

"Hmm," he hummed noncommittedly. "You were a little harsh."

" _I_ don't think so."

"That's 'cause you're _you_ ," Spidey brushed his fingertips towards the former playboy. "And he's not."

"And thank God for that," Dr. Banner commented almost inaudibly, though the teen caught it and snickered.

"What's wrong with _me?_ "

"Nothing."

 _What's wrong with you?_

 _What's wrong with you?_

The little voices in the spider's head had whispered in his ear, the inklings, the little thoughts of doubt, that he couldn't do anything right. That everyone around him died because of _him_. Something wrong with _him_. They were right. _No_ , he couldn't do that right now. Right now, he was talking to two of his idols and he was having an intelligent conversation where he was making a point. "Think about it this way. He just woke up from a seventy-year or something _siesta_ and _everything's_ different. The _only_ thing that's the same that he's been exposed to is the military structure. Dr. Banner! Remember what he said on deck? When you asked him if it was pretty different?"

The tanned scientist glanced back over his shoulder, not expecting to be included in a way that mattered. "Uh, yeah. 'Well, this is actually kind of familiar.'"

"Exactly," he snapped his fingers and pointed while feeling an awful lot like his freshman history teacher during a lecture. "And then _you_ come along and you're asking him to question the _only_ thing he feels he can trust anymore. Everyone he ever loved is gone and dead, and S.H.I.E.L.D. took him in. You want him to disobey them. You get that now?"

"So, you're on his side?" Mr. Stark glowered pettily.

"No," the boy superhero cocked his head to the side. It was odd, how experienced and how untainted he seemed at the same time. "I'm just seeing things from his side. Personally, I think _you're_ more right than him." Spider-man stopped talking and slipped fluidly back to the counter he set his bag on, hoisting himself up with ease.

They really didn't know how much he related to the "everyone's dead and gone" part of that impromptu speech, or if they did, they weren't saying anything. They were all gone. Everyone. Because of _him_.

 _What's wrong with you?_

At some point, Hiro had jumped down from his head, sometime before his "owner" had tilted it. Now he was sitting rigidly by the golden spear, glaring at the object with hate as if it had personally offended him.

"Guy's not wrong about Loki," Dr. Banner filled the silence as he adjusted the settings, "he _does_ have the jump on us."

"What he's got is an ACME dynamite kit," the other adult revised, back to his sarcastic self after their heavy moment of thoughtfulness. "It's gonna blow up in his face, _and_ I'm gonna be there when it does."

"I'll read all about it," the hardworking mutate agreed.

"Mhm, _or_ ," Mr. Stark objected, "you'll be suiting up with the rest of us."

"Now, you see I don't get a suit of armor. I'm exposed, like a nerve, it's a nightmare."

"Hey, I don't have armor," Spidey told him lightly from his seat on the counter. "I run around in this sweatshirt the whole time, you're better off than me. I'm not bulletproof." Apparently, the arachnid was back to his perky self – they could hear him faintly humming _Titanium_ under his breath after that last comment – and it was shocking how quickly he could change back and forth. At least one of them was beginning to think that he was bipolar. Behind the walls of his mindscape, Peter forced himself to put up the cheerful front.

 _Yes, well, I have a reputation to maintain, don't I?_

Can't let them think anything's wrong. Nothing's wrong, nope, not with him!

"You—" the former CEO started.

"Are a crazy person?" Spider-man jumped in eagerly. "Yes, I am, thank-you-very-much!"

He shook his head a little at that and turned back to Dr. Banner. "You know, I've got a cluster of shrapnel, trying every second to crawl its way into my heart. This stops it." A finger tapped the circular light of the arc reactor, a little pinging noise sounding even through the shirt that drew Hiro's attention just for a split second as Mr. Stark walked over to the other side of his fellow genius' clear data monitor. "This little circle of light. It's a part of me now, not just armor. It's a terrible privilege."

"But you can _control_ it," came the dead statement.

"Because I learned _how_."

"It's different."

" _Hey,"_ he said forcefully, swiping away all the work to the side of the screen. They had full views of each other now. "I read all about your little accident. That much gamma exposure _should've_ killed you."

"So, you're saying that the Hulk—" He stopped uncertainly, neither of the men noticing the full attention of the teenager they were getting, though the gaze was light and sympathizing. "—the Other Guy – saved my life? That's nice. That's a nice sentiment. Saved it – for _what?_ "

"I guess we'll find out."

"You may not enjoy that."

"And you just might."

"Awa, bonding time!" from somewhere he had been sitting upside-down on the ceiling, the webbed superhero flipped down and pulled each of them to the side of the touchscreen in a slightly awkward hug since he was shorter than the both of them. Without the wide lenses, they could see a happy sheen to his rich brown eyes that crinkled at the corners with a wide, beaming smile they couldn't see.

He laughed, but there was a reflective quality to the joy in those eyes, a darker secret hidden below the surface that no one except Hiro knew and no one except that brilliant kit could catch more than a passing glimmer of before the young hero let them go and pulled the goggles back down again, shutting them out. His arms un-looped from around their shoulders when he saw the quiet cheerfulness on Dr. Banner's face and the clear enthusiasm from Mr. Stark, a little unexpected, but real and grateful on behalf of Bruce. "Science bros forever!"

"Hey, that's _actually_ good!" the eccentric billionaire chuckled.

"Excuse _you!_ " he replied with faux hurt and more excitement to falsify it. "I'll have you know I've come up with a number of good ideas in my life!"

"Then what happened to your name? I mean really? _Spider-man?_ "

"It was the press I tell you! The press! I blame Jonah for everything!"

* * *

 **Sorry, I know this one was terribly short compared to all the other ones, but I thought about combining it with Chapter Eighteen, but then that one would be ridiculously long and run-on, so how about I just promise a better next chapter, okay? And that way y'all won't kill me and lock my soul in the Fields of Punishment. Deal? Deal.**

 **Well, we got deep into poor Peter's self-doubt and self-hatred, but the chapter ended on a sort-of silly note. I just thought that 1) the chapter was terrible, so I went back and added some of his thoughts on the matter (I legitimately have no clue what the POV was supposed to be in this chappie, sorry) and 2) Peter was being a little mopey or too serious in some of these interactions, so I decided to give an actual reason besides the fact that they were talking about a serious topic.**

 **Final poll results are as follows: A/N's will be sticking around and updates are being shifted to once a week Tuesdays.**

 **'Til a hopefully better next time! (I mean, I better make Chapter Twenty a good one, I've never made it up to twenty chapters before now)**

 **Lucky**

 **To winfield56: Well I'm glad it was still interesting.**

 **To Dylan-A-Friend: So do I! Thanks a bundle, Dylan, you just gave me a great idea for a scene later! :)**

 **To Hexal: Animagus-type stuff will be in here somewhere, might take a while, though.**

 **To The Red Dementor: Oops. Well, it said it was posted to my profile but who knows. I'm new to all this, thanks for rolling with it.**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Oh yeah, that scepter will be getting some attention later, trust me. And I am all too happy to grant your wish! No way in Tartarus that Civil War will happen! Canon can go screw itself when I'm involved. But I suppose this means you're in support of a sequel at some point?...**

 **To budhayes: 1) I legit hadn't realized that my story was up to 40,000 words. 2) … yeah, that's mostly how it goes. Peter and Hiro don't have much of an effect on the plotline of Avengers, and I'm sorry if that's not what you were looking for. To be honest, this portion of the story won't appear to have much effect until later.**

 **To Merlin (Guest): No prob! And I really couldn't tell, you're perfectly fine!**

 **To Sis (Guest): Are you psychic?! Half the stuff you just mentioned happens later on! Mind. Blown. ;) But in all seriousness, thanks for the feedback. I'll keep it in mind for the future.**


	20. Chapter 20

**And I've done it again. I AM SO SORRY! I say this a lot, but I really mean it! Sorry for the lateness, this time I blame all the stupid make-up work I have to do for the week I was out sick. But you don't want to hear about that, you want to read. Maybe I should just change to Wednesdays… nah. Well, here you go.**

* * *

Chapter Twenty: Magic!

Sometime during the tense argument between Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark, the scepter had gleamed, glowing, sending off more magic. Hiro had caught it with a Seeker's eyes and split his attentions between the malignant weapon and the adults, some of which were acting like children. He felt for the energy it was sending off, analyzed it in his own way that was the opposite of whatever professional procedure the Aurors might have done and beyond the capabilities of the muggle-filled world he now called home.

Though untrained in any way that counted, the wizard-turned-cat could feel the magic, like the way he'd felt Loki's, but this was _different_. Loki's had a… _green_ feel to it, a swampy, slimy green that was pointy and not unclear about its harmful intentions. This… staff – for he had heard Merlin once wielded a staff rather than a wand, and this thing was _saturated_ in magic – had an energy, oh yes, but it wasn't _Loki's_. It had its own magics that had been combined with the snake's so that he could channel his through the spear as well as use its innate powers.

The _scepter's_ magic was yellow and bright, but not like the sun, not in that happy-cheerful-sunny-day feelings, no, this was an icky _mustard_ yellow that didn't creep in tendrils but spread in a haze like mist around the room, collecting around the heroes. Hiro felt like he should've had troubles breathing with this magic in the air, this energy that seemed neutral at best. But he found it pressing on his Occlumency barriers, however weak they were, but they still held.

No, this magic was tricky, like Loki himself, but Loki was aggressive, and this was patient and slow as it seeped into your mind and manipulated your emotions with precise motions that you didn't notice.

Now, the kit couldn't actually _see_ any of this, it was all compiled in feelings, feelings of _color_ as weird as that sounded. He wasn't quite sure if this was his way of interpreting magic, or if it was the way this world's magic was, or a bit of both. He _did_ know one thing. The energy of the staff kept trying to get into Peter's mind. And he was having _none_ of that.

While he couldn't do magic in this annoying form, he could send out as much of a half-arsed Occlumency shield around his friend as possible with a clear message for the invasive magic. _Back off_. This one's _mine._ It sounded childish, even to him, but he could practically hear the yellow _hiss_ in displeasure when it backed off of Spider-man and shuddered imperceptibly.

He reluctantly jumped off of Spidey's head, knowing they were talking in the background, but not really hearing it as he glowered at the blue jewel at the head of the spear that he just knew housed the magical energy. Hiro knew he wasn't strong enough to do the same to everybody onboard the massive ship, as much as he'd like to, especially these new "Avenger" people he was growing attached to. It didn't seem to be leaving the lab, however, so he tried to limit its influence as best he could.

Which, for him, included scowling at the Merlin-damned thing and trying to incase the imaginary mustard mist in an imaginary clear hamster ball. Thinking of it like a glass marble, filled with swirling yellows. It didn't _entirely_ work – give him a break, he never even finished Hogwarts! – and there were little leaks in the containment everywhere, like pinholes that wreaked havoc on his hard work. Maybe, maybe, he could've done it if he was human again, but that was still a big maybe for the Boy-Who-Lived. He wondered if they were calling him the Boy-Who- _Died_ now wryly. Nah, knowing the wizarding population he was something like "the Man-Who-Saved" or something equally idealistic and ridiculous.

Satisfied with his work for now, and mostly certain the stupid golden stick wouldn't cause any more problems without Captain Roger's and Mr. Stark's conflicting personalities butting heads, he slid lankily away and out a crack in the door, eager to explore. Hiro wandered, dodging S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and catching sight of Thor looking confused and miming antlers in the big, main command center, somehow not getting caught among the world's premier spy organization. It was amazing where being underestimated could get you.

Eventually, his four legs took him deeper into the ship and he found traces of Loki's green energy along the path they had led him on to his cell, that large, circular glass thing that they could drop from the Helicarrier at a moment's notice. He stole through the doorway, coming up just in time to see Agent Romanoff standing outside the glass with Loki directly in front of her, though, thankfully, still imprisoned. But if this man's magic was any tell of his character – and Harry had found that magic usually was – he wouldn't be in there for much longer, only as long as it amused him. The pale god slammed his fist into the thick glass as Hiro sat to watch in a shadowed corner.

"I won't _touch_ Barton!" he was snarling. "Not until I make him _kill_ you. _Slowly_ , _intimately_ , in every way he _knows_ you fear!" The redhead turned away, appearing frightened and shaking, but he could see the resolve in her eyes and knew immediately she was acting. No, this was _not_ a woman broken, but a woman _strong_. Not one to trifle with, and he had already been scared of her before. "And then he'll wake _just_ long enough to see his good work, and when he screams I'll split his _skull!"_

However, that was no reason for Hiro to leave her like this and the words Loki spun grated on his ears painfully. But he held back, if only for the strength in her eyes. She had a plan, and he did not want to mess it up. "This is my bargain, you mewling _quim!_ " Wow did everyone is Asgard talk like that? Talk about getting old fast.

The light sounds of sobs came from behind Agent Romanoff's hands realistically. "You're a _monster!_ "

"Oh, no," the mad god grinned, falling for her hysterics. " _You_ brought the monster." Suddenly, there was the ear-piercing sound of claws on glass as Hiro deemed it _far_ past time for him to intervene, especially with the pleased sort-of-expression on the emotionless spy's face that told him she had what she needed. From his place on the railing, the cat hissed and growled menacingly, front legs propped up on the glass as he drug his sharp claws down lightly enough to create the awful sound, but not heavy enough to initiate the drop sequence on the cage. He _really_ hated that snake. "What? What is this?"

Hiro hissed loudly once more before hopping onto the agent's shoulder, much to her surprise, and continuing to scowl at him. "How curious." He acted casual, but Loki rubbed his ears with his hands, much to the cat's pleasure, and came away with traces of blood. The echoes of the walls made it much worse from the inside with the technology they used.

"So, Banner?" Agent Romanoff mused and turned, a blank, dry countenance put exactly in place rather then the weeping wench Loki thought he'd torn. "That's your play."

"What?" Hiro chuffed at the lie-smith's genuine confusion, gaining the slightest of smirks from the femme fatale who he perched upon. Any normal person would've missed it, but he never claimed to be normal. She stalked around the room towards the exit, not worried about his balance, having seen him with Spider-man before.

A hand went up to her ear, and she spoke into the comm. "Loki means to unleash the Hulk. Keep Banner in the lab, I'm on my way. Send Thor as well." She turned, right before the door and smiled sharply at the prisoner. "Thank you, for your cooperation." Hiro caught one last look at the god's utterly baffled expression and laughed again. Seems the god of lies wasn't all he claimed to be. "So. Your name is Hiro, right?"

Green eyes looked curiously at the agent as he tilted his head to the side.

"Hm. How the hell did you get out the lab?"

The only response was a light chuff and eyes sparkling with mirthful secrets.

"Ah, those _idiotskiye genii_ probably left the door open." The kit managed to appear affronted at the suggestion and the famously stoic Black Widow held back a smile. "You're a smart one. I like you, _malen'kiy kotenok_." They went up and down stairways, through a maze of corridors, and if Hiro wasn't absolutely sure she was convinced he was really a cat, he'd think she was trying to disorient him. Or maybe the place was just _built_ to be confusing.

As they got closer, he stiffened, feeling that yellow magic again. Oh, _Merlin_. He shouldn't have left. Thor came up from another hallway and entered only one step ahead of Agent Romanoff. The room was crowded, the trio of scientists still there, though Peter looked rather ragged through his disguise – knowing him, he'd probably been trying to keep the peace – along with Director Fury and an angry Captain Rogers. Most eyes turned to them when they entered, and Spidey rushed over after the agent's simple words of: "I found your cat."

"Thank you," he murmured quietly to her, sensing she didn't want to distract from whatever had happened in their absence. "Where the heck _were_ you?!" Now _that_ reprimanding undertone was directed at him. "Don't do that!"

"Did _you_ know about this?" Dr. Banner's voice brought the pair back to the highly-strung present as he gestured at a weird gun on the table next to Captain Rogers. Hiro, now up on the boy's tight shoulder to make an attempt at providing support, studied the weapon darkly, now knowing what everything was about. The Tesseract wasn't a clean energy source, but a breakthrough in weapons technology for S.H.I.E.L.D. As always, the government liked to ruin all the good things.

But it captured his attention briefly, for the smallest of openings, before he turned his attention to the smug scepter still on the other table. His "hamster ball" hadn't contained it for long, breaking when anger began to mount and only furthering the problem. Hiro focused in on it, trying to harness the energy once again, but still listening as the human's arguing only made things worse.

"You want to think about removing yourself from this environment, doctor?" Agent Romanoff was saying.

He laughed bitterly. "I was in _Calcutta_ , I was pretty well removed."

"Loki's manipulating you."

"And you've been doing _what_ exactly?"

"You didn't come here because I bat my eyelashes at you," she reasoned.

"Yes, and I'm not _leaving_ because suddenly you get a little _twitchy_ ," he countered. "I'd like to know why S.H.I.E.L.D. is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction." Everyone turned to the director, even Spider-man, who had been and currently was sitting on the edge of the counter nervously, unsure about why everyone was so upset. Yes, it was a serious topic, but couldn't they just talk it out _without_ the yelling and accusations, like rational adults?

Hiro himself had about given up, seeing as the damage was already done and he was making no progress other than exhausting himself.

"Because of _him_ ," the African American answered shortly and exasperatedly with a finger pointed at the god of thunder.

* * *

 **TA-DA! I somehow made it to twenty flarking chapters! Woo! This is so far past my previous writings.** ** _Di immortales_** **, I really didn't think I'd get this far when I started out! And there's actual character development happening! Well, it's mostly just sad emotional junk right now, but stuff will happen, I promise!**

 **Also, the first little bit of Russian from Natasha means "idiotic geniuses" and the second one was "little kit." I used Google translate, so blame them, not me, if something's wrong with it. I did use the translation/English alphabet version instead of the Russian symbols because it always drove me crazy when people would put things like that in their story and I would have no clue how to pronounce it.**

 **Now, your opinions please! What did you all think about the way I keep describing magic? And how did Hiro do with Loki?**

 **Lucky**

 **To budhayes: Thank you! You get me. =D**

 **To Dylan-A-Friend: Oh my gods, if you find it, tell me! It sounds hilarious.**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: True, thank you, and XD.**

 **To MattKennedy: I'd hope so, I just thought it would be interesting to hear that explanation.**

 **To ellainaparker: Yep.**

 **To Guest: Glad you like it (especially since I'm slow and I know it)!**


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One: Explosions Both Verbally and Physically

" _Me?_ " Thor repeated.

"Last year, Earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that _leveled_ a small town," Director Fury began explaining. "We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly – _hilariously_ – out-gunned."

"My people want nothing but peace with your planet."

"But you're not the only people out there, are you?" he snapped, on a roll. " _And_ , you're not the only _threat_. The world's filling up with people who can't be _matched_ , they can't be _controlled_." Spider-man's fingers had halted their anxious drumbeat on his legs and Hiro brushed his velvety ear against the boy's cheek worriedly.

He knew the teen had sensory overloads sometimes, had helped with one or two himself, including the one when they first learned Aunt May was gone, and hoped this wasn't what that was. Or maybe he _did_ hope for a problem as simple as that, as cruel as it sounds, because Peter was always moving and tapping and doing something unless he was _completely_ wiped out and needed rest or something was _very_ wrong with him. It was… scary to see someone he liked – no, _loved_ , because he really did love the boy – so unlike themselves.

"Like you controlled the cube?!" Captain Rogers was accusing in the background.

"Your work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki to it, and his allies. It is the signal to all the realms that the Earth is ready for a _higher form_ of war," Thor insisted.

"A higher _form?_ "

"You forced our hand!" Fury practically shouted. "We had to come up with _some_ —"

"Nuclear deterrent," Mr. Stark interrupted. "'Cause that always calms everything right down."

"Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark?"

Captain Rogers scoffed in a very un-Captain-Rogers-like way. "I'm sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be neck deep—"

"Wait – wait! Hold on! How is this now about _me?_ "

"I'm sorry, isn't _everything?_ "

"I thought humans were more _evolved_ than this." And now everyone really was yelling and screaming over each other in a worked-up, frankly ruddy stupid argumentative state.

"Excuse me did we come to _your_ planet and blow stuff up?!"

"'Tis your champion's—"

"YOU'RE _NOT_ MY CHAMPION!"

"Are you boys _really_ that naïve? S.H.I.E.L.D. monitors potential threats."

"You furious? I'm furious."

"And _Captain America_ is on the threat poll?"

"We _all_ are!"

"That's not your concern, doctor!"

Now Hiro's head was spinning in a thousand places at once as they shouted, and Spidey sat away from everything, uncharacteristically quiet, and the staff began to glow – wait, what? The blue gem on the end was shining fiercely and he could sense another signal magic being sent out to something, whatever that something was, he knew it couldn't be good. But his meows were lost in the cacophony, so all he could do was butt his head up against Peter and hope to Merlin that his friend would be okay.

"You're on that list? Are you above or below angry bees?"

"I swear to God, Stark, one more crack…"

"You're a threat! VERBAL THREAT! I FEEL THREATENED!"

"Show some _respect._ "

"Respect what?"

"Yeah, manhandle me now, _that'll_ be a good—"

"You speak of control, yet you court chaos!"

"It's his MO, isn't it?" Dr. Banner's voice cut through as some of the background arguments faded away, Hiro feeling how the scepter adapted the situation, focusing its power on the doctor and the two opposites in the room. "I mean, what are we, a _team?_ No, no, no. We're a chemical mixture that makes chaos. We're – we're a _time bomb."_

" _You_ ," Fury pointed, "need to step away."

Stark began to run his mouth again and clapped a hand on the captain's shoulder. "Why shouldn't the guy let off a little steam?"

"You know damn well why! _Back off!_ " Rogers swatted his hand away belligerently.

"Oh, I'm starting to want you to make me."

"Yeah, big man in a suit of armor," the blonde scoffed. "Take that off, what are you."

"Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist."

"I know guys with _none_ of that worth _ten_ of you. I've seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is _yourself_. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you."

"No, that's me," Spider-man whispered dejectedly. Rogers gave him a startled look, eyes wide like he'd just come up from almost drowning and getting a breath of fresh air above the water before Stark drug him back into the yelling match. Dr. Banner might've heard, but nobody knew what was going on in the conflicted man's head right now.

"I think I would just cut the wire," the self-proclaimed "genius" proposed.

"Always a way out," he frowned disapprovingly. "You know, you may not be a _threat_ , but you better stop pretending to be a _hero_."

"Okay," the youngest spider said silently, the barest muttering escaping past his lips. Stuck in his own head, he must've thought that last bit was directed at him, Hiro realized with a choked breath. All the turbulence of self-hatred in his head, the kit had experienced things like that before, but not on the level he'd seen in his teenaged friend. No, no, _no_ , it wasn't for _you!_

"A hero, like _you?_ " Stark continued on, oblivious. "You're a laboratory _experiment_ , Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a _bottle_."

"Put on the suit, let's go a few rounds."

Spider-man spoke again, mouthing words no one heard to himself. "No… don't want to hurt anyone else." But Hiro heard, and he was screaming, pounding in his head for a way out, _anything_ , any way out of this cat's body so that he could help! This was worse that the time on the building after the little girl in the tree, worse than the days after May's death, almost, when he wanted so _desperately_ to be there but couldn't!

He cursed fate, destiny, Death, God, _whoever_ in every language he knew, which, granted, wasn't a lot, but an impressive string of swears nonetheless, for getting him stuck like this, unhelpful and useless, simply sitting to watch events go by. Yes, Harry had asked to start over and Hiro had found a new life and new people to cherish, but when his loved one was in pain, even _emotionally_ , and there was nothing he could do, it was _infuriating!_ He wanted to help, he _needed_ to help, yet he _couldn't!_

"You people are so petty, and _tiny_ ," Thor laughed.

"Yeah, _this_ is a team," Dr. Banner mocked half-heartedly, most just tiredness and anger acting up.

But, of course, Fury took it the wrong way. "Agent Romanoff, would you escort Dr. Banner back to his—"

" _Where?_ You rented my room." It was suddenly silent.

"The cell was just—"

"In case you needed to _kill_ me, but you _can't,_ I _know_ , I _tried!_ " Was it possible for the room to be any quieter? "I got low. I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth _and the Other Guy spit it out_. So, I moved on, I focused on helping other people. I was good until you _dragged_ me back into this _freak show_ and put _everyone here at risk._ You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanoff? You wanna know how I stay _calm?_ " The click of snaps on the gun holsters of the director and agent echoed like cannon blasts on a battlefield. Steve was the first to say something.

"Doctor Banner… put down the scepter." The man's head jerked down, where he found the spear waiting in his hand, somehow. He hadn't picked it up, he didn't _know_ he picked it up. Hiro gave his brunet friend one last cuddle to snap him out of it, which seemed to work, as he perked up with his eyes flitting about the thickly aggravated room, before gracefully, but cautiously, trudging over to the doctor.

He hopped onto the desk and placed a soft paw on the man's arm, doing his best to ground the curly-haired man physically, for there was nothing he could do on a magical level anymore. Maybe he was being hopeful, but he saw Dr. Banner relax a bit, the scepter's hold loosening. The sudden ring-ding-a-ling of Stark's fancy computer snapped everyone's heads to the opposite side of the room and the spear was replaced on the counter. The location of the cube had been found.

"Got it," Director Fury announced unnecessarily.

"Sorry, kids," the gamma expert absentmindedly scratched Hiro's head before striding over to the locating tech. "You don't get to see my party trick after all." Instantly the room was filled with chatter again and the kit sighed in a long-suffering way. They really _couldn't_ leave it alone, though it was most likely just the scepter's influence over the gathering. But still, Stark and Rogers' little rivalry wasn't helping matters.

"Located the Tesseract?"

"I can get there faster."

"Look, all of us—"

"The Tesseract belongs on Asgard, no _human_ is a match for it."

Stark turned to march out of the room, only to be stopped by the blonde's hand. "You're _not_ going alone."

"You gonna stop me?" he smacked the hold away.

"Put on the suit, let's find out!"

"I'm not afraid to hit an old man!"

" _Put on the suit_."

Yeah, if _Captain America himself_ was acting like _this_ , there was something in the water. Or, more accurately, _air_ , Hiro thought with a glare shot at the manipulating spear, which sat innocently on the table. Over by the upgraded laptop – well, that's what he _thought_ it was – Dr. Banner's eyes went wide as saucers, his breath catching in his throating and bringing the cat's attentions to him. A shaky hand was brought up, he took off his glasses.

"Oh my god."

And something exploded.

* * *

 **I'm happy happy happy happy! Because reasons! Don't ask (or do if you actually care, you do you).**

 **Sorry-not-sorry for the cliffhanger on the end! Eep, I feel like Uncle Rick! It's kinda fun…**

 **But poor Peter! At least he has Hiro, even if Hiro is currently cursing out every powerful being in the multiverse. 'Cause he's a sweetie and really wants to help but can't. Don't worry, those two will figure themselves out at some point…**

 **Lucky**

 **To Dylan-A-Friend: Thanks! You're awesome.**

 **To The Red Dementor: Yay! I thought they were both good ideas, but I'm also just weird so you never know if it's just me.**

 **To Yo (Guest): Just you wait, things will get interesting soon enough.**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: No, not yet. I WANT TO SO BAD THOUGH! Thank you for the compliment!**

 **To Christina (Guest): Holy cannoli, thank you! I seriously can't believe that THIS crazy thing is your favorite Avengers/Harry Potter crossover! You read "Heroes Assemble!" by Stargon1 or "Fates Be Changed" by The Homing Pigeon yet? They're much better. I actually need to catch up on "Heroes Assemble!" … I'm off track, sorry. But thanks so much!**

 **To Augurey-GT96: I don't know… you mean Carol Danver's cat/alien right? I haven't seen the movie (and I'm dying because of it. Figuratively.) and I only know about Goose from the comics, so I'm not sure.**


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two: Green Friends and (Stereotypically) Dumb Blondes

It was but a moment, but it felt like longer, felt like forever as Peter was thrown about like a rag doll. He felt and saw the burst of orange-white flame in the lab, searing heat and light, felt as he was thrown through the window-wall with two other bodies and a small, darker object. For a second, he wasn't sure which way was up in his disorientation, but it was only for a drawn-out moment before he realized he was falling, Agent Romanoff and Dr. Banner already on the floor below him.

Almost unconsciously, he reached out and grabbed the black object that had accompanied him out the window, which turned out to be Hiro, as the cat latched on to the chest of his sweatshirt with sharp claws. The brunet twisted expertly now that his brain wasn't addled by the panicked thoughts of "OH-CRUD-SOMETHING-EXPLODED-AND-NUTS-NOW-THERE'S-FIRE," something that happened too often for his liking. His hand reached out to drag across the wall until he found the right place to latch on, rather than catching himself with a jerk and possibly dislocating his furry friend from his chest.

With that slowing stop on the way down, he landed in front of the fiery agent in a crouch before gingerly prying Hiro off his costume. The kit stumbled for a couple steps, shook his head, and was fine, to Spidey's eternal amusement. That cat was something else.

His senses dialed up from the explosion and consequential adrenalin rush, it wasn't a stretch for the teen to hear Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark scrambling away from the laboratory with a hurried "Put on the suit" and following shell-shocked agreement. He hoped they were going to fix the engine rather than yell at each other again. He'd rather _not_ have Spider-man go out as "a good-for-nothing masked menace to society," as the _lovely_ J. Jonah Jameson had recently put it.

Agent Romanoff put a hand up to a commlink on her ear that had been chittering away half a dozen conversations at once, none of which the hero had really heard. "Okay!" She spared a glance at the doctor, who wasn't looking so good, his hands clenched and eyes flashing green. "We're okay, right?" Jerking her leg, which he had just noticed was stuck under a heavy pile of collapsed pipes and poles, she tried to keep the fear out of her voice.

Spider-man held out a silent hand and she stopped, carefully watching him stand to easily begin lifting the biggest pipe with barely a tiny grunt. "Doctor? Bruce, you gotta fight it. This is just what Loki wants. We're gonna be okay. Listen to me." A couple random engineer-types ran in from somewhere unseen, off to the side. Agent Romanoff quickly waved them off as the colorful vigilante shifted the debris in such a way that she could slip out with no resistance.

The two men glanced at each other, then at Spidey, who pointed back the way they came with one hand, the other arm in a "what are you looking at _me_ for?" position, before finally skittering away. The woman, now free, kept talking to Dr. Banner. "We're gonna be okay. Right? I _swear_ on my _life_ I will _get_ you out of this, you will _walk_ away, and never ever—"

" _Your life?!_ " the green-tinged man more growled than spoke, voice impossibly deep and resonant for any human.

"Agent Romanoff!" Spider-man hissed and got no reaction from where he had squatted on his heels by her. "Agent!" Why wasn't she moving, going somewhere? " _Romanoff!"_ She finally looked at him, at his unreadable and hidden expression by the half-mask and goggles. "Go! Get out of here!"

While his was covered by a visible disguise, her invisible mask that she wore constantly was cracked and he could see the disbelief and touch of terror in her eyes and on her face. "Agent Romanoff, I know you're a 'trained professional' and a total badass and you scare me more than I really want to admit. But you _need_ to _go_ , there's plenty of places where you can be more useful, and to be frank, you're only human against the _freaking Hulk_. _Go_."

Agent Romanoff's eyes hardened, and she nodded, getting to her feet so smoothly nobody would've guessed she'd just been thrown out a window by an explosion and had a minor freak-out – at least, that's what the little slip in her façade was to someone like her. The redhead scooped up Hiro, who had been creeping over to the convulsing scientist on the floor for whatever reason, he would never understand everything that crazy feline did. She nodded sharply once before running off with the kit on her shoulder. The uncommunicated was clear: _Good luck._ He almost snorted. When had luck _ever_ been on his side?

"Hey, buddy, Dr. Banner," he shifted his crouch fluidly over to the panting adult, whose clothes were starting to look a little tight. "You okay?"

"Sp-der," the other choked out. "Y' go t—"

"Nope, no can do, doc'. I'm staying right here with you."

"'ll hurt y'."

"No, I'll be fine. I can take a lot of hits."

"S'rry."

"Don't be."

That was the end of the conversation as Spider-man got one last glance at Dr. Banner's eyes. Wide, glistening and filled with remorse that about cracked his own invisible mask – no one ever suspected he wore one – because that's _exactly_ the look he sometimes saw in his own irises.

But those thoughts couldn't and didn't linger long when the brightly clad superhero backed up hastily as the transformation completely overtook his new friend. The normally tanned and rather scrawny man got greener and taller and bulkier and – _wow_. That was one _vividly_ green hunk of muscle. The spider resisted the urge to jump to the ceiling and hide in some dark corner where no one would notice him, instead backing up and getting into a defensive position. He wasn't going to hurt Dr. Banner – Hulk, _whatever_ – but he thought that he was _probably_ allowed to block the hits if or when they came. He was trying to think positive. The jade behemoth got to his feet, shirtless and stretching those pants to the limit, and grunted before slamming a fist into something beside him as the lights that were still left went out.

The already dim area was plunged into the twilight zone, it seemed. An inconceivably loud and animalistic roar echoed through the space, heck, probably through the whole _aircraft_ , that made him flinch and left his enhanced ears ringing. With him on high alert, so were his abilities, and so here he was with near-perfect night-vison and aching ears as the breaths came heavy from the Hulk. Spider-man stood up from where he had jolted into an instinctive crouch.

The goliath finally realized he was there as he darted his head around randomly, searching for the source of his anger. What he lacked in brains, he made up for in sheer mass and brute strength, the hero knew. This guy would tear through him like tissue paper, no different than Agent Romanoff, despite what he'd told her, or the metal cylinder he had been punching. But all the videos he had seen had one thing in common: the Hulk _never_ attacked anybody who wasn't attacking or threatening him or Dr. Banner.

So, when the creature's eyes locked on him, Spidey valiantly fought whatever self-preservation instincts he had left – which meant pretty much zip – and stood upright, in front of the huge mass of power. His hands were not fisting, his feet were not planted. His arms dangled loosely at his sides and he didn't even have his hood up.

The Hulk moved forward, grunting, advancing menacingly on the teen, going so far as to roar right in his face, but not attacking. He seemed more… _confused_ … like he wasn't sure why he was there. Spider-man's hand began to move slowly, halting when the giant jerked towards it with a smaller roar/grunt combination.

"Wait," the boy said softly. "I don't want to hurt you." His hand made it the rest of the way up with no incident other than the wary, angry gaze. It was being watched with such caution, though all it did was slide the wide lenses of the tinted goggles up into his hair and reveal those chocolate irises. Eyes that glittered in the low light and reflected the Hulk's image back at him.

The grunting sound was lower this time, not so aggravated, more questioning and of lessening irritation. Every move Spidey made was sedate and deliberate, this time the hand coming out and forwards, causing the so-called monster to jerk back with the angry growl again. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

Palm out, fingers relaxed. Not a fist, nor a spade to jab with. Not even poised to shove away.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." After the seconds continued to drag by, a large, jade paw came up and matched the paler one, a mere foot away, and the small, uncovered fingers reached out. They, albeit shakily, brushed the rough calluses before fully placing the limbs together as the huge creature grunted in a weird way, as if the "rage monster" was _contented_. The teenager looked up to the square-jawed face, eyes shining happily. "I'm Spider-man."

That was the last thing he said before both the Hulk and some fast flash of blonde and armor disappeared with a heavy crunching noise through the nearest wall.

The young spider blinked. Once. Twice. "What the _actual heck."_

And then _he_ was off, through the hole and into whatever level the two muscle-bound idiots had crashed into, he wasn't sure, but it was crowded with astonished employees who had frozen. Apparently, a Norse god and a green troll weren't things you saw every day, even when you worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. Spidey sighed. Well, he wasn't going to pull _those_ two apart anytime soon.

So, he got to work trying to get all the worker ants away from the fight, having to – gently – slap a few who appeared to be in shock. "Hey, hey, I know I'm not your boss, but I don't think you want to be crushed by the violent version of a dynamic duo back there," he joked light-heartedly, though he had the urge to roll his eyes and punch something on the inside. "And as grumpy as Director Fury is, I don't think he'd like that either. C'mon, up an' at 'em." He managed to corral the few who hadn't come to their senses and made a break for it and lead them out of the room, silently cursing the god of thunder exasperatedly.

Wherever Hiro was, Peter hoped he was having a better time than him.

A crashed echoed from the back corner and a stack of crates all but exploded.

And was far away from _this._

* * *

 **Yeah, I know I drug out the Bruce-turns-into-Hulk scene, but I thought it was pretty good. Maybe?**

 **On a couple totally different other topics that I wanted to spew at you guys about…**

 **One, lots of people are asking when Hiro's going to turn back or want me to get on with the story. Know that I'm actually in the process of writing that particular chapter, so I can't change my timeline, but I'll keep the comments in mind for future works.**

 **Two, another poll is going up! In a mad search for ideas for the future of MITE beyond the chapter I'm writing now, I came across this insanity: I used to write stories with lots of OCs. Most were scrapped, but one OC of your choice is coming back for a cameo in MITE! All you get is her (all the scrapped ones are girls) name and/or nickname. Choose wisely! Poll will be up for two weeks and it's up this early so that I don't have to pause my writing when cameo time comes. This will really help move my story along (the OC will not be a major plot point whatsoever, though), so please vote!**

 **Three, like my new cover art? I didn't draw it, it was on Pinterest (saved by natalia mosquera pina), but it's still amazing. Kudos to all the amazing artists out there!**

 **Lucky**

 **To Dylan-A-Friend: Finally! ;)**

 **To Enes: Yes, he'll get a human form again (but that's all I'm saying about that!) and he'll be much more prominent in future chapters, but probably not for a while. Hang in there!**

 **To Shadow fear: Aw, thank you! I think that's one of the best compliments a writer can receive, that their story is unique and interesting. It's be rather boring if they were all the same. And Hiro'll have his time in the spotlight, just wait!**

 **To Mic Lubijar: LGBTQ+ (I tried to put the +, but it removed it. Boo.) stands for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer/Questioning. The + symbolizes that there is more to the acronym, this is just the shortened version (full is LGBTQIAP and adds Intersex, Asexual/Allies, and Pansexual to the end). As for the second bit of your review, I'm sorry to say I don't know what slash is… makes me sound like a rather terrible fanfiction author, doesn't it? But I'm new to this site, and I still don't get all the jargon. Mind explaining? I hope that answers your review.**

 **To MerlinGryffindor: Not quite… but your guess is close! I won't spoil anything, though, my lips are sealed! Thanks for the review!**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Hades yeah. There's going to be a lot of confusion, screaming, and spells. As said in the main A/N, I'm writing it out right now. Anyways, yeah. Poor Peter, I put him through so much…**

 **To Dark Neko 4000: Ah, the questions everybody wants answered. Hope this chapter answers the first one. That second will come up soon… but right now the Helicarrier's going down and they're trying to not die.**

 **To Fire Elemental Frank: Well welcome to the party! Great to hear you like my writing.**

 **To Guest: Soon enough, everyone just has to survive all this chaos.**


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three: Cognitive Recalibration

When Hiro was blown out of the laboratory in a fiery explosion with his friend, Dr. Banner, and Agent Romanoff, his mind inexplicably went back to the first trial of the Triwizard Tournament, despite the fact that this had nothing to do with dragons and broomsticks. It did, however, have _everything_ to do with the slimy serpent of a god and his stupid, mind-controlling glowstick. He supposed he probably should've been more concerned about falling to his doom out of the window, but he was slightly preoccupied with thoughts of which hexes and jinxes he wanted to hit Loki with should he ever get back to human form.

Thankfully, a hand reached out and grabbed him before he was too close to the concrete, his claws automatically hooking into the soft fabric he was pressed against. When they stopped moving – and probably a little longer than that – he allowed Spider-man to detach him from his hoodie, only taking a couple staggered steps before regaining his sense of balance. With the world no longer spinning around him, he noticed a couple of important facts.

One, Romanoff was stuck.

Two, Dr. Banner wasn't looking so good, quite literally turning green in the low light.

Spidey rushed over to help the agent, who had been talking to the shaking scientist, both of them having a conversation Hiro wasn't bothering to keep up with. His head jerked up when two of the maintenance crew came over to help, only to be shooed away and he went back to observing the doctor, gingerly padding over. Maybe he could help, his presence always seemed to calm Peter down when he was having a rough go, and sure, he hadn't known Dr. Banner for _nearly_ as long, but he liked him and wanted to help.

But, of course, before he could get within a couple feet of the slowly "Hulking-out" man, he was swung off his feet by a pair of ungloved hands, that alone telling him that Agent Romanoff was taking him for a ride. Hiro carefully adjusted his perch on her shoulder – which was actually slightly broader than his usual partner's – and felt her nod professionally to the other spider once before they were off. All the overprotective kit could do now was hope and pray that Spider-man didn't get himself into too much trouble while he was gone.

His ears swiveled, always on the lookout as the redhead jogged through the ship with a purpose, but could only catch muffled, inaudible chatter from her earpiece. Though, if he concentrated hard enough, he could _almost_ hear brief grunts and shouts amidst howling wind, sounds he would only hear on the Quidditch pitch when someone – usually him – was hanging off their broom and trying to get back on. Their winding path finally cleared, well… sort of. More like the walls and floor ended as they neared the part of the Helicarrier that had taken the brunt of the explosion and Hiro got to see who was making the I'm-falling-off-my-broom noises.

Captain Rogers. He definitely _wasn't_ on a broomstick, but he was in a different sort of pickle as he dangled from the ship, only held back from the winds and the sky by a cord. Well _that_ was a different sort of predicament, especially with the angry-faced enemy taking potshots at him from the not-so-safe-anymore safety of the hallway. The reason for it being more dangerous now? That had to do with one angry cat and a very well-trained spy. Safe to say, he wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon when Hiro was done with his poorly armored face – for some reason, the idiot had removed his goggles and mask – and Agent Romanoff's carefully aimed knockout blow when she tired of watching the kit whale on him amusedly.

"Hey, Captain!" she screamed over the winds. "Need a hand?" The blonde nodded jerkily as he advanced hand-over-hand, closer as she reeled him in with some difficulty. They finally got him back on the platform, panting with his hands on his knees and going to stand by a large, red lever. Captain Rogers gave Hiro a curious once-over when he noticed the black feline still eyeing and growling at the unconscious, scratched-up guard.

He turned to Agent Romanoff. "Which one of you did that?"

"The scratches were all him," she answered breathlessly in the high-altitude atmosphere, gesturing over to Hiro. Suddenly, she straightened, putting a hand up to her ear. The animal could only guess what she was listening to and only barely caught her reply. "This is Agent Romanoff. I copy." A quick turn to Rogers. "I'm going to get Clint back. Detention lab." No argument, no doubt. A statement of fact.

"Take the cat with you. I don't think Spider-man would be very happy if we dropped his pet off the Helicarrier." Hiro gave him a slightly offended look but didn't protest as the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent placed him back on her shoulder and they took off through the ship once more. A left, a right, a right, a left, a… _something_ , he couldn't keep track. As they got deeper inside, the lights got dimmer, the sounds of panicked crew dissipated, and she moved slower as she approached her target.

The kit stepped silently off her, fully aware of how things were likely to go down with the shadowed figure in front of them and hide expertly in a space between pipes. The air was thick with suspense, he could almost bite through it as the sounds of the room stayed levelly quiet. She was right behind him, but not visible, and neither seemed to be ignorant of another presence in the room.

Abruptly, the mind-controlled man spun around, nocking an arrow, only for Romanoff to pop up beside his arm with a hold on his bow. The arrow flew out harmlessly, and the pair engaged in what could best be described as a deadly dance, each partner knowing the other's moves, knowing exactly what would come next from the other. Agent Romanoff swung around gracefully, landing a kick, and Barton's moves, although rougher, landed as well. She caught his bowstring, he pulled back and released, causing her to hit herself in the face.

A show that Hiro was sure _no one_ else could put on.

Now Romanoff had the bow, but Barton had a hunting knife. The dance resumed, hit, block, parry, the knife getting _awfully_ close at one point! No, now the short-haired man had her in a hold, weapon up and ready to bite down, but she did it first, literally. He cried out in pain but had little time before the assassin flipped him about in a move Hiro couldn't even follow and whacked his head on the metal railing with a loud clang. The kit winced, that couldn't have felt good and the man wasn't getting up. All he could make it too was a wobbly crouch, where he looked up in apparent surprise.

"Natasha…" Agent Romanoff punched him square in the jaw, knocking the manipulated bloke out and retrieving Hiro. He looked down worriedly at the man he knew had been taken control of by the scepter. Yet… _curious_. Maybe the magic of the staff wasn't as close to the Imperious Curse as he'd thought. With the last headshot at the end of the two agents' fight, he'd been out of it, not only dazed, but _released_ by the magic. Head trauma, Hiro filed away. If you hit them on the head, the spell couldn't keep its hold. There was probably a fancy term for it that the doctors in the med-bay would coin when the fiery spy finished dragging her opponent down the halls.

* * *

 **Yipes, so that happened. That chapter was basically whatever the heck Hiro and Nat were doing while Spidey tried to get the Hulk to chill and Thor fought him. I know it wasn't the best, but I have trouble with fight scenes already and I really can't do justice to the Black Widow's kick-ass moves. Sorry for that and the shortness. I promise the next one will be longer**

 **Shout-out to all the super helpful people who helped me with the fanfiction-jargon! You are all awesome!**

 **As for the poll, there's currently only one vote, which is for Astrid. Which was surprising to me. Please vote! You have one more week!**

 **Saw Captain Marvel (finally)! Am-a-zing!**

 **And last but not least at all, I recently looked at the views, reviews, favorites, etc. (including the chart that shows you different countries) and HOLY FLARKING CANNOLI! 109 reviews, 33,397 views, 312 followers, 201 favorites, and people from 73 countries! Das't. I really need to check those stats more often...**

 **Thank you SO MUCH everyone reading this! You all have made my day! =D**

 **Lucky (just had her mind blown)**

 **To Dylan-A-Friend: Thank you and will do!**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Thanks! Yeah, Thor kinda ruined the moment. And you're welcome!**

 **To Lord Royal: Glad to have you and to hear your review! All are welcome! (Sorry, I'm weird. But don't let that scare you away!)**

 **To Mary D. Black2000: Thanks for the info, I will. (To be honest, I don't understand why some people are so against stuff like that, but whatever.)**

 **To winfield56: Thanks, hope you liked this one just as much!**

 **To micaelladungan: Hey, thanks a bundle!**

 **To Silvermane1: My gods, neither can I. I mean, it's been written, but I can't wait for the reactions.**


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four: More Magic!

Spider-man had just gotten the last workers that had gotten in the way of the Hulk and Thor's little wrestling match to the medical wing, or if they were uninjured, to an all-around safer part of the Helicarrier when he heard the roar. Heck, he was sure _everyone_ heard it, the glass beakers in a separate laboratory rattling in their holders as he ran past, trying to find a window. No luck, but that couldn't have been anyone or anything other than his jade-toned buddy. Which posed the question… where was _Thor?_ That inquiry was promptly answered as the blonde-haired god jogged past him, hammer in hand, towards what – if he could remember the layout of this maze correctly – Spidey thought was the glass-cage room.

"Hey, Thor!" he called, but the other didn't stop or even slow his pace, forcing the spider to follow at the rapid speed. "God of thunder! Blondie! _Thor!_ "

"Man of Spiders," the god half-grunted as he ran with the hero easily keeping up behind him. "What does thou need?"

"Nothing, but where are you going?"

"To put an end to this madness by confronting my brother myself."

"Cool, cool… want some backup?"

They were almost there, even if Thor said no, he would tag along anyhow. "It is never a bad thing to have a shield-brother to aid you in battle."

"Ah, o _kay?_ " They rounded the last corner, Spider-man nervously fingering the pressure plates of his web-shooters, only to see the door to the cell sliding open and the trickster stepping cautiously out. The thunderer skidded to a halt at the doorway and the only way his red-and-black companion didn't run into him was through the joys of sticky feet. But something was _off_. The brunet could feel it, his sixth sense at the base of his skull, humming in warning. Not _direct_ danger, but not everything was as it seemed. "Thor… something's not right…"

" _No!_ " the hotheaded god roared, heedless of the teen's warning discomfort.

" _Thor – no—"_ But he couldn't reach him in time and the fool charged forwards like a bull with his hammer, Loki widening his stance as if prepared to wrestle, but _no_. That was _not_ what they had seen of Loki before. The god of mischief preferred his sneaky fights, not a head-on confrontation. So, Spider-man really wasn't surprised when Thor went right through the scrawnier man with a flash of green light and landed on the inside of the cell with a thud. The transparent door closed with a finalizing suction noise, leaving an exasperated superhero standing outside to glare at the real Loki, who dismissed a goon with a tilt of his head and gave the storm-bringer a look.

"Are you ever _not_ going to fall for that?" he mocked with a sigh.

"He might, but I won't!" And suddenly the green-cloaked god had a gag of webbing around his mouth and a bruise on his cheek as Spidey's first attack came flying at him, the boy sliding easily into a crouch after the kick. "I don't think green is your color, let's try black and blue!" He came in for another blow, but his fist was caught in a strong grasp, Loki taking the chance to rip the substance off and land a hit to his stomach that had him doubling over before simply stepping up the nearest wall and dragging the unsuspecting person up with him. A quick blow to the wrist was followed up by a clap on the pale snake's ear that had him swiveling his jaw after he landed harshly on the metal floor.

Spider-man's form came down another time, meeting nothing when Loki teleported in a flash to the other side of the room, replying, "Ah ha, _no_."

"Ah ha, _yes_ , Rudolph." The teenager had swung his way over and across to hit the god right on the nose, which leaked red blood in stark contrast to his murderous green eyes. "Hey, now you've got the nose to match!" Their fight escalated, moving around the room at a rapid pace as the teleporter and web-slinger went at it, a punch, a kick, a jab, and then Loki had another gag on, now it was gone as a dagger materialized in his hand. Both swipes were dodged, the spider barely avoided getting impaled against a wall, planting his hands above him and kicking the other male under the chin as he flipped up. "Betcha can't get me!"

"Do you _ever_ stop talking?"

"Do _you?_ " A trio of blades almost introduced themselves to his ribs. "Ah, ah, that's _rude!_ I was just trying to make conversation!"

"This fight is over!"

"Does it _have_ to be?" Spidey whined from a different corner of the ceiling right before some twisting green light wrapped around his arms and legs, pulling them back until he was a starfish on the roof. "Okay, uh… it's a tie?" Loki sniffed once and stepped over the unconscious guard he had previously dismissed before said man was knocked out and wrapped in spiderwebs. Slowly, because Peter wouldn't be caught _dead_ calling this guy "regal," he made his way over to the control panel as Thor chose that exact moment to slam his hammer into the glass. Instead of breaking, the result was a small, sprawled crack and an awful shrieking groan as the bolts of the cage shifted, almost giving way. The raven-haired god on the outside tauntingly pretended to brace himself with a sickly grin and a low laugh.

"The humans think us immortal," Loki informed him, strolling over to the button to drop the cage from the carrier. "Shall we test that?"

"No, I don't think you should." Spider-man was silenced with a flick of the god's hand. His fingers hovered over the trigger, ready, waiting… until a muffled clang drew his attention to the unattended doorway. Agent Coulson stood on the platform, armed with a threatening gun half as big as he was, and adjusted it from when he had whacked the trapped foot soldier, who had been waking up.

"Move away please," he suggested in a calm tone. Loki's hands carefully retracted from controls, both him and the captive blonde following the agent warily. From the ceiling, Spidey smirked behind his mask as he tried to work one of his hands free to no avail against the mystical restraints. Agent Coulson had his own controlled smile on as he moved closer, one step at a time. "Do you like this? We started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer. Even _I_ don't know what it does." A press of a button, and the muzzle of the gun lit up with a humming orange glow. "Do you wanna find out?" And then Spider-man wanted to _scream_ , to _shout_ , because the Loki in front of him was an illusion and the real one had the scepter stabbed through the man's chest from behind, the red spreading… the blood leaking… the color staining his crisp white shirt as the spear was removed indifferently by the god of lies as the faux-Loki faded away.

Coulson slumped against the wall, gun still in his lap, struggling to breathe and somewhere Thor was yelling his displeasure the way he wanted to, but the sound was stuck in his chest… Agent Coulson was stabbed in the _chest_ … another life he could've saved had he not been so _weak!_ He watched Loki gesture to his weapon with a smile, saw him press the button that sent Thor down and out of the ship as they flew thousands of feet above the ground. The god turned to leave, the teenager still bound to the ceiling and staring down at the earth through the hole until it spun shut again. "You're going to lose." He turned back around to see Agent Coulson, still alive, his head turned to watch him.

"Am I?"

"It's in your nature." Above all of them, the mostly forgotten Spider-man flickered his eyes back and forth between them, still working on that one wrist.

"Your heroes are scattered," Loki objected. "Your floating fortress falls from the sky. _Where_ is my disadvantage?"

"You lack _conviction_ ," he stated.

Taken aback, the god stepped forward to deliver a passionate rebound. "I don't think _I_ —" He was suddenly cut off by a blazing shot of what Spidey wasn't sure was fire, a laser, or a weird combination of both, but the trickster was blown back through a wall by the thing as its barrel cooled down and quit glowing.

"So that's what it does," the aging man breathed. The pressure on the teen hero's joints released and he fell down with a slight "whoa!" before swinging over to Agent Coulson, still sitting against the wall.

"Hey, Agent!" This felt like Deja-vu. How many times had he called out someone's name like that today? "Coulson, c'mon, man, don't die on me!" How many times had he watched this scene, seen someone dead or dying, because of _him?_ " _Please_."

"Loki," he coughed, a spot of red in the corner of his mouth, the blood still seeping into his shirt despite the web-bandages Spidey wrapped him in. "Is he…?"

"You got 'em, I don't think…" The bug-eye lenses flashed as he glanced over and found no sign of the slippery god. "… _son of a_ …"

"It'll be okay, kid."

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Peter agreed quickly as he gently pressed webbing on the wound. "Web-bandages are the best, you'll be fine, I've used them myself on _many_ occasions…" He knew he was rambling, but he just kept talking, kept trying to keep the lifeblood inside of the man. "You'll be fine. Sorry I wasn't down here, I was stuck to the ceiling – not voluntarily, mind you – maybe if I had gotten down here sooner…"

"No," Coulson reassured him, but not very reassuring when the person was bleeding out in your arms, "you're just a kid. It's not your fault."

"But it _was!_ " he burst out with watery eyes. " _My fault!_ I could've _done_ something! It was my responsibility! I have power, it was _my responsibility_. 'With great _power_ , comes great _responsibility_.'" With the hand not holding the wound, he shoved his goggles crookedly up into his hair, chocolate eyes gleaming, and wiped at them fiercely. There was a rattling in Coulson's chest that he refused to believe was death, instead changed the subject. "Wh-what's your name anyway, Agent?"

The brunet smiled at him shakily. "Phil. Phil Coulson, nice to meet you." His words were breathy.

"Peter Parker. Nice to meet you too." He could hear footsteps in the hallway, right outside. The jogging of a group and the telltale, sharper military ones of the director. " _Fury!_ " The African-American soldier ran in with haste, kneeling in front of his right hand, as Peter scooted his crouch farther away and transferred the wrappings to him.

"I'm sorry boss," Ag – no, _Phil_ – apologized. "The god rabbited."

"Just stay awake. _Eyes on me_ ," he ordered intensely with a hand on the other guy's cheek.

"Oh, I'm clockin' out here."

" _Not an option_."

"It's okay, boss. This was never gonna work… if they didn't have something – to…" Phil slumped further, labored breathing coming to a halt, causing Peter to shift forwards until he saw the light in the half-lidded eyes go out. With his own trembling breath, he yanked his gold-tinted lenses back over his eyes and Spider-man stood up, followed by Director Fury, who leaned against the yellow railing.

"Agent Coulson is down," he said after placing a hand to his earpiece.

The radio crackled, catching the attention of a certain spider-enhanced teen, before it spoke. "A medical team is on its way to your location."

"They're here," the director amended and watched the men crowded around the dead body. "They called it."

* * *

 **First of all, minor problem. In the poll, we have a tie between Ani "Solstice" Fount, Shy, Shade, Astrid "Sailor" Metz, and Aziza "Death Girl" Foret. They all have only one vote. So, the poll will be open for ONE MORE WEEK! PLEASE VOTE!**

 **Secondly, I AM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I had to do school stuffs. Which takes slight precedence over fangirl stuffs. Unfortunately.**

 **Okay, so, yeah… I just about died writing this chapter. Again. As I do with every character death in this story. Because I'm overly attached to these fictional characters (you should've seen me after Infinity War). Like the meanie I am, I added sad, sappy dialogue as a buffer between when Loki's shot and when Fury finally gets his** ** _podex_** **down there to help his agent. Now I'm just mostly depressed because that's how I am after I write sad stuffs…**

 **Lucky (is fine, just forgot how much this part of the movie likes to tear into the hearts of fans)**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Thanks! I know that sometimes it's necessary, but I never like how they turn out when I write them.**

 **To butterglypuss: Good interesting or bad interesting? ;D**

 **To Enes: It was nothing, I love talking to all you awesome people who take the time to read this.**

 **To Rainbowxxx (Guest): Thank you! It's been written in later chapters, just hang in there!**

 **To winfield56: Thanks!**

 **To xiu (Guest): Voila! Sorry it's late, I was catching up with school stuff after a choir field trip.**

 **To Dylan-A-Friend: =D**

 **To SilentProwler: Maybe, we'll just have to see…**

 **To son of morgana: Update schedule is Tuesdays! Usually. Not this week, I was being stupid and forgot. Sorry, but thank you!**

 **To Guest: I have so so so many ideas for crossovers! You have no idea. I have half-formed ideas for Harry Potter and ROTG, Percy Jackson and Spider-man, other Harry and Avengers things, other Percy and Avengers things, and a bunch of tiny, random DC ideas that aren't even solid yet. I swear, my full-time job is being a geek (second would be being a nerd). Hopefully some of these will come to fruition.**


	25. Chapter 25

**I'm sleep-deprived and had too much schoolwork yesterday so all I can say right now is sorry. Please don't kill me, I promise I'll get back on schedule. But yay for over 50 K words!**

 **Lucky**

* * *

Chapter Twenty-Five: Now We're Getting Somewhere

He was sitting on the ceiling of the room that formerly held the glass cell and Loki. His legs were crossed, and his lenses gave nothing away as he fingered a tear in the red part of the costume he wore, reflecting the room back at itself. Under the goggles, Peter's brown irises shimmered wetly, a single tear escaping and sliding towards his forehead, but was stopped by the edge of the lens.

He didn't know why he was so worked up over Phil. Maybe because he so clearly could have helped yet _didn't_. Maybe it was the way he was reminded of his Uncle Ben and the similar ways they died, with Peter there, watching, trying to help. With his hands pressed against the hole in their chest and the blood still leaking through his fingers, staining them until he could get to a sink and wash them off with fervor.

He hadn't even known the agent for long.

The first time they'd met was that library and he hadn't been around the lab very often, but he could tell – heck, _anyone_ could tell – that he was a good guy. The calm collectiveness and still the warmth and trust. Wow… he really _had_ been like Ben.

Peter's fingers tugged at the bottom of his half-mask, pulling it down enough for him to let out a tiny sniff and wipe his nose before he anxiously replaced it when he heard the footsteps coming a mile away. The brunet was alone the room and he knew that both Dr. Banner and Thor were missing. Agent Romanoff was with Agent Barton. Director Fury had pulled Agent Hill along to his impromptu meeting with Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark. It was unlikely that he'd be joined by _anyone_ and that fact alone left him wondering who was coming.

It took a good five minutes for the person to get there, five minutes of the boy composing himself and occupying his free thoughts with inane wonderings of how many people it took to run the whole Helicarrier. Below Spider-man, Mr. Stark now stood at the edge of the catwalk, staring off into the space where the cage once was with his arms behind him.

"Hey," the webbed wonder called down, thankful that his voice was a lot steadier than it would've been a couple minutes ago. "Come all the way in here for little ol' me?" From the way the billionaire's head jerked up at his voice, he assumed not.

"No, no," he shook his head with a pause, before filling the silence almost hyperactively. "Why are you even _here?_ "

Spider-man cocked his own head to the side. "Here in this room… here on this ship?"

"Both, all, _whatever_ ," he dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"Well… I'm in this _room_ because no one told me to go anywhere else."

"Really? Fury didn't tell you about his little pow-wow? I thought you skipped."

"Hm, no," Spidey hummed. "Didn't need me there. Doesn't need me here."

"What?" The man sounded genuinely confused and the vigilante snorted.

"You really think I _need_ to be here? The director has Iron Man, Captain America, the Hulk, a couple assassins, and a literal god, along with the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D., and you think he needs a _wall-crawling jokester_ around?" A self-deprecating laugh rang out at the end of the list. "Oh, that's richer than _you_."

"Well, why _are_ you here then?" Mr. Stark snapped back, though with not as much force. "If you're so useless, why are you here?"

He paused and tilted his hooded countenance the other way as the air of the room suddenly changed from bitterly charged to melancholy. "Because Ag – _Phil_ , asked me. Because people were going to get hurt. Because whatever I do, whatever happens, I will _not_ let people get hurt on my watch." Spidey shrunk in on himself from where he had been sitting, albeit upside-down, straight up and continued in an inaudible tone. "But I couldn't save Phil."

The area drifted into silence, neither replying to the impassioned speech that the superhero had voiced. They sat, or stood, in the quiet comfortably, if a bit tensely in some cases, until another set of footfalls reached the arachnid's ears. A few more minutes passed, and Captain Rogers entered through the other doorway, a few yards away from Mr. Stark. The former's eyes flashed up to Spidey momentarily as the blonde came to stand just as he was, briefly acknowledging the boy's presence.

"Was he married?" the captain asked, and it was clear who the subject was. The spider on the ceiling let out a quiet sigh.

"No," the brown-haired philanthropist answered shortly. "There was a, uh – _cellist_ , I think."

"I'm sorry. He seemed like a good man."

"He was an idiot." Now that statement dragged Spider-man back into the conversation. The irate tone was clear, and he stepped backwards from the edge of the platform.

"Why? For believing?" Captain Rogers accused.

"For taking on Loki alone," Mr. Stark reiterated. Spidey held back the comment that he hadn't been alone, that he had been there, but hadn't been strong enough to help. Because as selfish as it was, he didn't want his idols to hate him. He wasn't sure if he could take something like that at that moment.

"He was doing his job."

"He was out of his league. He should have waited. He should have—"

"Sometimes there isn't a way out, Tony." The red-and-black clothed boy wanted to object, but also didn't, the words aching to jump out of his mouth yet stuck in his throat at the same time as he watched the blonde move closer to the other adult.

"Right. I've heard _that_ before." The two crossed paths and kept going, only Rogers turning around to face Stark.

"Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?"

"We are _not_ _soldiers_ ," he responded with conviction, whipping around, then hesitated. "I'm not marching to Fury's fife."

"Neither am I," Captain Rogers concurred unexpectedly. "He's got the same blood on his hands that Loki does, but right now we have to put that behind us and get this done. Now Loki needs a power source, if we can put together a list—" Spider-man followed the genius' distracted gaze over to where Phil had laid before dying, where there was still a red-tinged stain on the wall and a dent in the grate that was shaped suspiciously like his own hand.

Mr. Stark jerked his head up to interrupt the other. "He made it personal."

"That's not the point."

"That _is_ the point. That's _Loki's_ _point_. He hit us all right where we live." Up above their heads, Spidey stifled a rather hysterical giggle at the thought of him living somewhere permanent but followed the train of thought. It was actually quite brilliant, and there was no one who knew an egotistical, but sharp, mind like another egotistical, sharp mind. No offense to Mr. Stark. "Why?"

"To tear us apart," the All-American reasoned.

"Yeah, divide and conquer is great but – he knows he has to take us out to win, right? That's what he wants. He wants to _beat_ us, he wants to be _seen_ doing it. He wants an _audience_."

"Right. I caught his act in Stuttgart."

"Yeah, that's just the previews, this is – this is _opening night_ ," the brunet told the room, on a roll now. He was pacing, walking up the stairs and talking with his hands. "And Loki, he's – he's—"

"A diva?" Spider-man suggested in an only partially joking voice as he stood on the roof and made his way down the wall. He walked at a ninety-degree angle to the ground before stepping to join them on the floor like a normal person.

"A full-tilt _diva!_ " Mr. Stark continued with a wild point at the spider-teen. "He wants _flowers_ , he wants _parades_ , he wants a _monument_ built to the skies with his _name_ plastered—" He cut himself off as Captain Rogers raised his eyebrows, coming to the same conclusion as the rest of the room. "Son of a bitch." The rogue god was going to Stark Tower.

"I'll get Romanoff," the former icicle told him.

"I'll get my armor," he said at the same time.

"Um, do we have a plan?" the youngest asked warily.

"Yes."

"No."

The two opposites locked eyes and Rogers sighed. "No."

Spidey snorted. "Mr. Stark's a _baad_ influence on you." The mentioned man gave them both a lopsided, rakish grin before he took off down the hall to find and fix his battered armor, preening under the attentions. The last two gave each other a look, mostly amused on the vigilante's part, and the masked boy gave him a messy, two-fingered salute. "C'mon, Captain! Let's go find those spies!" And they were off down the blank halls of the base, running what must've been at least a mile to retrieve the circular shield and shuffle around Spider-man's duffel bag for the extra web fluid pellets, though neither slowed nor showed signs of fatigue. Finally – _finally_ – they made it to the wing and the room the two agents were in, including the one that had been mind-controlled by Loki.

"Time to go," the captain informed the redhead when he opened the door.

"Go where?" she countered logically.

"I'll tell you on the way. Can you fly one of those jets?"

" _I_ can." A man with dirty-blonde hair stepped out from the bathroom while drying his hands, eyes no longer the unnatural bright blue. Agent Romanoff gave Captain Rogers a look when he warily evaluated Agent Barton up and down and nodded, not missing the glare Spider-man was so obviously giving him from behind his back at his lack of trust. If the man himself had any opinion on the matter, he didn't say anything besides the intrigue he showed the shorter figure that was almost covered by the star-spangled soldier's bulk.

"Got a suit?" the history-book hero addressed him.

"Yeah."

"Then suit up." A furry, midnight-colored form popped its head out from behind Agent Romanoff and meowed.

"Hiro!" Spidey burst out joyfully, vaulting over his teammates when he couldn't find a way around the person blocking the door. He swept up the cat, who purred deeply and bumped his nose to the teenager's mask-covered one, but it was cute, nonetheless. "Thanks for keeping him safe, Agent Romanoff."

"No problem," she replied in her typical stoic fashion that was rather out of place with the sweet scene before her. The captain led her out of the room with the teen superhero close behind, kit on his shoulder as usual, and Barton following by Spider-man's other shoulder. On their journey back through the Helicarrier to who knew where, probably for the spies' gear, the new addition leaned a little closer by his ear.

"So… where _are_ we going?" he inquired in a harsh whisper.

"To give Loki a good butt-whooping," came the entirely too-enthusiastic reply. "There are a number of places I _especially_ want to hit him." The two shared a sharp smile before being interrupted by the impassioned hisses and growls coming from Hiro, who was staring straight forward and grumbling at the mention of the supervillain. Leading to the quiet giggle-fest that happened when the males locked eyes – or lenses.

"I like this cat," Agent Barton declared as he reached out an arm to scratch between the animal's velvety ears. The owner of those ears responded in turn with a kinder meow than the low complaints from before, rubbing his head up against the bird-themed agent. On the verge of tipping off his seat, Hiro finally decided that if he was going to interact with the man, he should be closer to said man, and leapt deftly over to the blonde's shoulder in mid-stride. He bumped his head against Barton's cheek once more.

Spidey gave a short laugh. "He likes you too. 'Course, he likes most people. Except Loki, Flash, and a couple other people who are now scarred for life and won't go anywhere _near_ a cat anymore."

"Well, he has good taste." The redhead in front of them suddenly hung a right into a weapons storage room with no warning, the brunet almost running into her during the tight turn and ending up following Agent Barton in. When the blonde started bending over to gather a quiver of his signature arrows, the kit on his shoulder decided that his back looked like a good springboard and launched himself as his ride stood back up. Using Captain Rogers' head as a waypoint, Hiro bounced his way back to Spider-man's shoulder. The patriot straightened as much more as his already tense military posture allowed and blinked twice at the feline in surprise. The teen, now with his constant companion back on his person, just laughed at his flabbergasted expression before turning back to the now fully equipped Black Widow.

"Let's go catch us a god, boys."

Hawkeye flashed them all a predatory smile as he flipped out the ends of his bow with a jerk. "Finally. _Now_ we're getting somewhere."

* * *

 **Poor, poor Peter is blaming himself for everything again and Hawkeye's finally back. Yay! And I mean that "yay" only for the second one. I'm not that cruel… I hate doing this to my characters (as I've said probably too many times by now) but I think it helps the story along. And don't worry, Peter will get help at some point, but he might take a while to get out of his funk.**

 **Anyway, I stalled out partially during this chapter (writer's block is a stupid, stupid thing), so I'm sorry if part of it is rough. Instead, during that time, I was stuck and was trying to get inspired again by reading other amazing fanfiction on this site. The one that finally got me back was Fernandidilly-yo's "Reintroducing Hope," which is awesome (go read it), so you have them to thank. And so do I. So, thank you Fernandidilly-yo!**

 **…**

 **Don't worry, I'm not so delusional to think that they're actually reading my story. I messaged them while back.**

 **Lucky**

 **P.S. Aziza "Death Girl" Foret won the poll, so you'll be seeing her in (much) later chapters.**

 **To MayaHikari: Simple logic that so many people don't seem to understand.**

 **To MerlinGryffindor: Thanks, sorry for the late update. I've said it a million times, but I'll say it again: homework is stupid. I swear, next week's will be on time!**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Eeee, I can't wait to see it! I've managed to avoid spoilers so far (which is an accomplishment at my school) and am just vibrating out of my chair in anticipation!**

 **To butterflypuss: Thanks!**

 **To son of morgona: Yay! Always good to hear!**

 **To winfield56: Thanks, I try to keep chapter lengths consistent but it's hard when you've written something and** ** _then_** **realized you need chapters...**


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six: " _Doors are for people with no imaginations_." – Derek Landy

Peter dropped Hiro off – _again_ , and hopefully he'd stay this time – in the lab as they went by to the deck and _explicitly_ made sure that the door was shut after filling a small, collapsible bowl with water. The three adults forged ahead to a jet with its ramp down and a single, low-level engineer crouched up front working on something he couldn't see. The young man stood up, looking somewhere between shocked, star-struck, and confused.

"Hey, you guys aren't authorized to be in here," he tried bravely, in Spider-man's opinion, but the captain had other plans.

"Son," the star-spangled man held up a hand, "just don't."

The unknown crew member opened his mouth, then closed it. "Yep." The hand that held the tool he'd been working with dropped to his side and he scooted his way around the other teammates, mumbling something about "Captain- _freaking_ -America," in this jet, "of _all_ the Quinjets up here!" As he skittered the rest of the way out of the flying machine, across the runway, Hawkeye sat smoothly down in the pilot's chair and flipped a few switches. He glanced over his shoulder with a lopsided grin, but a hard look in his eyes.

"Let's do this thing." And with that dramatic statement, they were off in the sky, Spidey catching sight of the Iron Man suit whizzing past, the smoke trails its repulsors left behind. The metallic superhero led the way towards New York from where the Helicarrier hovered over the ocean, and the boy could feel muscles he didn't know were tensed loosening as they neared familiar territory. He knew the city like the back of his hand, even more so now than before he had been on the streets, it was more comfortable.

Yet he still felt that well-known feeling curling around his gut, the one that followed him around near-always nowadays. A swirl of stress and anxiety that came with the worries of his life, but now it was multiplied with the threats hanging over, not his head, but the people of New York's. Causing Spider-man to fidget even more than usual, and that was saying something, as they grew closer and closer to the eventual battleground.

And there was _going_ to be a battle, because from his experience, nothing _this_ big went away with a snap and they were already cutting it close. When Widow handed him a comm, he fixed it in his ear without a word, just nodding at her, before going back to alternately staring at the floor or out the windshield and tap-tapping his toes inside his worn-thin sneakers. Through the unit, he could hear the dull buzzing of the wind that the device picked up in Iron Man's suit, once and a while a sputtering sound as his propulsion cut out momentarily. They neared Stark Tower as they flew over the city, and finally something happened in the form of Mr. Stark's AI, J.A.R.V.I.S., reporting in.

"Sir, I turned off the arc reactor. The device is already self-sustaining." It seemed that the robotic system was connected to their communication links.

"Shut it down, Dr. Selvig," they heard Iron Man say. Spider-man could just barely make out the hovering armor above the skyscraper, facing a complicated machine and another humanoid figure. Their jet was still far out of range and all they could do for now was listen to one side of the conversation. "Okay." The telltale sound of a repulsor charging filled the otherwise silent comms, before a weird, warped sound came through along with the man in the suit's surprised grunt.

"The barrier is pure energy," J.A.R.V.I.S. offered in explanation, proving Spidey's theory that the Tin Can had tried to shoot the mechanism. "It's unbreachable."

"Yeah, I got that. Plan B."

" _Sir_ , the Mark Seven is not ready for deployment."

"Then skip the spinning rims, we're on the clock."

"He's gonna do something stupid, isn't he?" the brunet teenager voiced his suspicions.

"He's stalling for us to get there," Captain America simplified, as if he couldn't figure that out for himself.

"Yes, I get _that_ ," he brushed off with a hand. "But it's going to lead to something stupid and probably hilarious."

" _'He'_ can hear you," Black Widow inputted. Mr. Stark was unable to reply, Spidey could hear the technology on his specially designed landing pad removed his armor, only leaving a simple comm unit in his ear, he suspected.

"Yeah, I know." Didn't mean he'd pass up an opportunity to poke fun at the billionaire. A few tense seconds passed of the whirring machinery and padding feet and the boy wishing he had a computer to hack into security cameras with.

"Uh – _actually_ , I'm planning to threaten you," Mr. Stark said to someone they all assumed was Loki, though the young brunet had a feeling that the genius meant that for him as well. Another, shorter quiet. "Yeah, it's seen a bit of mileage. You've got the – uh, glowstick of destiny. Would you like a drink?" Every pause when the god of mischief was replying to the man's words caused the breath to catch in his throat and him to pray that the plane would move faster. "No, no, no – _threatening_. No drink? You sure? I'm having one."

Clinking followed, and it seemed Mr. Stark hadn't been joking about that drink. "The Avengers. It's what we call ourselves, sort of like a team. 'Earth's Mightiest Heroes' type of thing, plus Spider-man." And there was the revenge-dig the youngest had been waiting for. "Yeah, takes us a while to get any traction, I'll give you that one. But, let's do a head count here. Your _brother_ , the demigod." More shuffling and something moving against skin that only came through the sensitive mike as a faint _swish_ in the background.

"A super soldier, a living legend who _kind of_ lives up to the legend; a man with _breath-taking_ anger management issues; a younger guy with the proportional strength and agility of a spider; a couple of master assassins, and _you_ , big fella, you've managed to piss off _every_ single one of them." During the next few moments they could hear echoing steps from Mr. Stark's shoes on the pristine floor. "Not a great plan. When they come, and they _will_ , they'll come for _you_."

The next thing out of his mouth would become one of Peter's favorite verbal trump-cards the older ever uttered. And that included _Yeah, well I'm Iron Man_.

"We have a _Hulk_."

Spidey snorted a quiet laugh with Hawkeye and even Black Widow and Cap' cracked smiles among the pre-fight jitters. "Yeah – you're missing the point. There's no _throne_ , there is _no_ version of this where you come out on top. _Maybe_ your army comes, and _maybe_ it's too much for us, but it's all on _you_. 'Cause if we can't protect the Earth, you can be damned well sure we'll avenge it."

"Damn right," Agent Barton affirmed in a murmur. Spider-man nodded rather stiffly as the other, less expressive two set their jaws stubbornly. They were almost there, but it was taking forever, at least that's what it felt like to him. His sensitive ears picked up metallic clinks, almost like glasses ringing against each other, still slightly lower. But if Mr. Stark wasn't wearing his armor… then the only metal objects in his immediate vicinity were the scepter and his arc reactor… at that realization, he almost laughed out loud. Loki was trying to mind-control him and the reactor was rejecting the foreign energy, leading to one very confused, silver-tongued god.

Then when Stark started talking again, the teen gave up on trying to contain his chuckles in snorts and snickers. "Well, performance issues, not uncommon… one out of five—" The voice was abruptly cut off with a choking sound and thump that sounded a lot like a body being thrown to the ground… it was rather strange that he knew that sound by heart, the boy absently thought as the atmosphere in the jet lost its lightening feel. "J.A.R.V.I.S., anytime now."

"You will _all_ fall before me." Loki was close enough to the micro-bug that his accented words filtered through, just barely loud enough for the enhanced spider to hear.

"Deploy," Mr. Stark made out. " _Deploy_!" A shattering of glass and air rushing was all they could hear before another smashing sound followed – he crossed his fingers that it was Loki – and tinny, humming mechanisms surrounding and merging with the comm unit. He had his suit back and everyone in the jet breathed a sigh of relief as the voice came back clearer than before now that the man had his helmet on. Unfortunately, that meant the second crash hadn't been Loki, but the arachnid was glad to know at least _one_ of his idols was okay, seeing as the others were MIA or being mind-controlled at the moment. "And there's one _other_ person you pissed off! His name is Phil."

"Heck yes," Spidey muttered resolutely. He lowered his fingers from where they had drifted up to the little communication link as he had listened in, shifting with easy balance to stand closer to Hawkeye up front. A laser of pure, blue light shot up to the clouds, tearing an ugly black hole in the clouds. Stars shone through like the night sky and smoke curled its fingers around the fringe of the portal, explaining the insistent buzzing in the back of his head that he'd been trying to ignore. Now the almost painful pangs his spider-sense had been sending through his head made sense. At least it had subsided, as if it had just been waiting for him to realize that HEY, THERE'S A GIANT ALIEN PORTAL IN THE SKY! From their distance, the aliens flying from the portal looked like specks, flies buzzing around a Lego house. "Aw, dang."

"Right, army," Iron Man followed up, the suit rocketing higher to meet the newcomers and explosions greeting them. The first part of the fight had begun in the air and they could only hope that those on the ground were smart enough to stay off the streets, to stay _safe_. Of course, there was a reason Spider-man was needed, and it wasn't because the citizens of New York would follow exact protocol in the event of an emergency, even if there _was_ a set procedure for an alien invasion. Their jet was over the city, getting closer by the second above the streets, but he felt utterly useless as he moved back towards the bay doors anxiously.

"I _gotta_ get out there," he said to himself softly as he activated the pressure pads on his web-shooters. Unlike the others in the plane with him, he wasn't necessarily limited to solid or flat ground, what with his spidery combination of wall-crawling and web-slinging. All Spidey needed was a good jump point. "Guys, I'm going."

"Going _where?_ " Captain America automatically questioned and followed the costumed boy's route to the "Open" button, then back to the door as it unlocked.

Out on the edge of the ramp, his back facing the open air, he spread a mischievous smile across his face with his arms raised by his sides. "Just out for a swing." The teen fell backwards, relishing the rush of air and adrenalin he had missed over the past while on the flying aircraft carrier. There just wasn't _anything_ quite like this. With a touch of his fingers, a web-strand flew and grasped onto a building's edge to carry him in a parabolic swing under the jet.

At the top of his arch, the superhero let go and flipped up high, so high as to peek, upside-down, through the transparent window of the vehicle and wave at the trio inside. They all wore some variation of a surprised expression, despite how stoic some always seemed. The captain seemed to remember the vigilante had been issued the same commlinks they all had, and his voice came through the younger's ear.

"Spider-man come in," Captain America demanded with just a touch of worry.

"Roger, Captain Rogers!" came the sarcastic reply. "I haven't even _done_ anything yet. At _least_ let me punch an alien bugger." The spider abruptly knocked a Chitauri off a chariot with one fell swoop. "There, now what do you want?"

"Can you get the civilians out of those things' range?"

"That _was_ the plan! You'll be able to handle our oh-so-friendly friends up there with Iron Man?"

"Yes. You _sure_ you know what you're doing?"

"With all due respect, Capt'n. You may have served in a war, but I've been doing this for far longer than you." Spider-man, now lower than their lofty heights, but just as fast, seeing as they had to dodge and shoot at Chitauri frequently, sprinted to a landing on a street crowded by halted cars. Without stopping, he hopped up in one leap to the top of a truck and cupped his hands around his mouth. "Anyone still out here! You need to _move_ it and get _inside_! Better yet, to the _subway_! Stay _away_ from the _windows_!" He doubted any of them would listen, but at least he gave them a fair warning.

Then he was off, having taken too long for even that short message, and he was moving cars to get to those trapped, webbing debris out of the way when some alien decided to break a building, carrying a pair of kids back to where their parents waited with outstretched arms and tear streaked cheeks. The boy couldn't begin to describe each thing that happened, or how long it took to get each person to safety. All he knew was that he couldn't stop, that he had to make sure they were all off the road, no longer out in the open, before he moved on to the next street.

Spidey must have gone through at least a block's worth of jammed-up roadways before anything came through his comm. Somehow, he hadn't encountered any of the bug-like aliens on the ground and they seemed content to take potshots from their bikes. The vigilante had taken down a few that came close enough but was mostly focused on shooing citizens inside and underground.

"Thor's taken on Loki at the tower," Black Widow's no-nonsense tones were the same in any situation it seemed. Spider-man's head jerked up as she finished the sentence and he herded the last few people on that street. He was a building, maybe two, away from the tower and could hear the loud noises of Loki's scepter, the crackling of electricity around Thor's hammer, before he even saw the large letter K get blasted off Stark Tower, but just barely over the wartime cacophony.

Iron Man shot by overhead, leading a squadron of Chitauri cruisers on a chase as baffled policemen pulled up. Ugh, he did _not_ have time to deal with the boys-in-blue right now. The superhero swung up to an alien vehicle and snatched the riders off in a flip, tossing them into a concrete wall that they slid down, and didn't move. The brunet didn't have time to think about that as he took out another by screwing with its steering system – which didn't appear to be very good – and moved on. "Stark, we're on your three, heading northeast."

"What, did you stop for drive-thru?" the irritated billionaire snarked back. "Swing up Park, I'm gonna lay 'em out for you." The teenaged spider had stopped trying to look for the team every time they talked over the earpieces, instead zeroing in on each group of terrified people and getting them to safety. A couple times a larger group became a target for the aliens and he had to jam up their rides, letting them crash into each other, or even jump up and take them on himself. He knew it wouldn't be long before they started going after him specifically, like they were the Avengers members. Then Spider-man would be in _real_ trouble.

* * *

 **Thought I'd change up the chapter titles with one of my favorite quotes. I just thought this is something pretty much any superhero will relate to. They do go crashing through windows an awful lot. And walls. And ceilings. And anything that isn't a door.**

 **Enough of that. This chappie ended up pretty long… probably because I was trying to not make it short and went a tad bit overboard. They're in the thick of it now! And who thinks Hiro is actually going to stay on the Helicarrier? Show of hands.**

 **Lucky**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Thanks a bundle! I try my best, but PTSD and such is something I've never had to deal with (thankfully) so it's nice to know that it's good.**

 **To Dark Neko 4000: Eventually, have patience and all will be revealed in time… wow, that sounded so mysterious…**

 **To winfield56: Thanks, but I have y'all to thank for reading.**

 **A Link (Huésped): ¡Gracias por el consejo! Aquí, con toda honestidad, traté de leer tu reseña con mis escasas habilidades de clase de español antes de rendirme y solo traducir Google. Lo mismo con esta respuesta, así que por favor culpe a Google por cualquier error. De todos modos, tendré eso en cuenta cuando finalmente lo vea ... ¡Me estoy muriendo de suspenso!**

 **To Dylan-A-Friend: Hades yeah! Hope I don't disappoint with the fight scenes, those aren't my strong suite.**

 **To Silvermane1: Oh boy, just you wait. I wrote something sort of like that and I can't wait to see if you like it!**

 **À Merlin (Client): Tout d'abord, permettez-moi de dire que tout cela se fait par le biais de Google Translate. Je suis donc désolé si quelque chose ne va pas, ce n'est pas de ma faute. Pour répondre à votre question, Harry viendra plus tard et sera plus important. Je ne voulais pas que la présence de Harry ou de Peter affecte beaucoup le film, mais la raison de leur présence viendra dans les chapitres suivants.**

 **To twilightserius: Don't worry… karma is real and in his face later on.**

 **P.S. Wow, look at all the languages!**


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Nobody Likes Skrewts

When Peter jumped out of the jet like the heart-attack-inducing spider-boy he is, Hiro about gave away his presence in the cargo basket trying to decide whether he was going to yell and smack him after this was over – or then and there, he wasn't picky – follow him, or do both. The first option was sounding enticing. He settled on that one and was just settling back in when the flying machine shifted ever so slightly with the added drag of the deployed weapons system before banking upwards at a steep incline. The combined shifting in the cabin caused him to lose his clawed grip of a soft-packaged first aid kit, falling down onto a side seat with a surprised yowl. He supposed the myths about cats landing on their feet were true as he splayed his legs upon landing for balance, then strutted over to a wide-eyed Captain America. What, it wasn't normal for it to magically rain cats inside a plane?

" _Hiro?_ " the blonde in question exclaimed. The commlink in his ear squawked indignantly at the shocked word and his hand went up to it. "Yes, that's what I said. Your _cat_ is on the Quinjet." The hard floor he'd made his way to had nowhere for his softly padded feet to grip, even if he tried to prick something with his claws. Agents Romanoff and Barton – or Black Widow and Hawkeye, he supposed – spared them a split-second glance before continuing to pilot the plane in an upward circle, taking shots at the Chitauri that flew around them.

An abrupt pull-back maneuver almost caused Hiro to completely lose his footing until he latched onto the captain's pants leg, to the amusement of the soldier. "No problem, I'll make sure he's safe." A pause, and the kit could only imagine the creatively sarcastic insurance the teenager was extracting. "… copy that. Signing off." Their ascent smoothed out as they exited the latest swarm of aliens and the feline carefully made his way to the front of the cockpit.

"Nat," Hawkeye warned as they rounded on Stark Tower, right in front of the balcony.

"I see 'em." As the team watched, Loki slammed Thor's head into the railing, shattering the glass as Hiro hissed his displeasure. The brothers wrestled, Loki managing to throw off the blonde thunder god with a disgruntled expression that gave away his chagrin at having to fight hand-to-hand like this. The traitorous trickster swung his staff towards the jet as the pilots' fingers jammed the fire buttons, the blue laser slicing through their left wing's engine with a jarring impact inside. His hold was loosened and lost as the aircraft spiraled downwards and Hiro's green eyes found the only other passenger holding onto the ceiling bars for dear life.

Their wild ride continued through the city, bouncing off any number of buildings as the single engine spun them in its sad attempts to keep them airborne. At one point, the animal caught a slightly stunned Captain America swinging around the cargo hold, only held in place by his grip on the aforementioned bars. The descent the flightless jet took them on was much faster than their ascent, it was a lot smokier too. He was sure they were going to crash into some poor bloke's office the way they were going but was pleasantly surprised and impressed as Hawkeye's piloting set them down, albeit bumpily, in a plaza outside some retail store.

Once they "landed" – Hiro was partial to the word " _crashed_ " at the moment – it was a scramble to gather weapons and get out of the downed machine before they became sitting ducks for the Chitauri. Captain America led the way down the ramp, which had opened with surprising ease compared to the damage the rest of the systems had taken. The kit found a secure perch on the archer's shoulder as he scooped him up. He wasn't complaining; Agent Barton might've been one of his favorites with the way he reminded him of his wise-cracking, spidery friend. Plus, the dirty blonde was the least likely to do a flip and knock him off out of the three.

"We gotta get back up there," the star-spangled superhero was saying. They stood in front of Grand Central Terminal, just a block away from Stark Tower. The trio of humans had stopped and were staring open-mouthed at the thing that just came out of the portal, though Hiro couldn't say he was much better.

Its roar practically shook the buildings and it looked scarily like a giant, _flying_ , toothy version of a Blast-Ended Skrewt that some bloody _idiot_ had put armor on. Honestly, it looked like something from Hagrid's dreams and his own nightmares. It flew over them, flashes of light that he assumed were propulsion devices launching Chitauri ground troops into nearby buildings. The cat simply hoped that Spidey was around somewhere near them. Captain America finally found his voice amidst the new level of chaos. "Stark, are you _seeing_ this?"

Right up against Hawkeye's ear, Hiro could barely catch the replies. " _Seeing_ , still working on _believing_ …"

"Seeing what – _HOLY MOTHER OF MEGATRON!_ " Seems like Spider-man had seen the flying skrewt – for lack of a better name – from wherever he was. "That thing is _butt-ugly!_ "

"Ya _think?_ " Iron Man drawled. "Where's Banner? Has he shown up yet?"

" _Banner?_ " the captain questioned.

"Just keep me posted." To his onboard AI, though it seemed he left them on the line anyways, "J.A.R.V.I.S., find me a soft spot." With that, the conversation was over, and the heroes scrambled to hide behind a taxi, planning their next move. Obviously, being saddled with a relatively defenseless cat put a wrench in things.

After too long a silence devoid of any sort of plotting, Widow sighed heavily. "Just give him here. I'll run him down to the tower and be back before you notice I'm gone." Without waiting for a response, the redhead plucked Hiro off the archer's shoulder and made off with him down the street. She fluidly dodged anything that came at her, be it debris from a nearby building or an angry-sounding alien that was swiftly dispatched by a bullet in its forehead a second after she passed by. Sliding across the hood of a car, the duo was suddenly right by the door of Stark Tower and the Black Widow was setting the kit gently inside the lift and telling J.A.R.V.I.S. to take him to a safe floor.

The AI obliged happily with the request, closing the doors before Hiro could even think of objecting and shooting the box higher. The last thing he saw of Agent Romanoff was her fiery hair whipping around as she jogged back out to join the fight. The tower's machinery pulled him farther and farther up and he wondered if J.A.R.V.I.S. had misunderstood the assassin at some point and was taking him straight to the roof, or if Loki had somehow found a way into the system, which was dismissed straightaway due to the Asgardians' tendency to be utterly baffled by anything and everything "Midgardian."

Eventually, he felt the ascent slow and the doors open to a fairly undamaged floor that was also rather bare, lacking everything that could characterize it as lived-in besides basic furnishings. Hiro instantaneously rushed over to the – miraculously – unbroken window and peered out at the chaotic city through the spider-web cracks in the glass. Everywhere he looked, there was a fire, an explosion, cars piled up, and buildings torn down. Chitauri soldiers were scattered along the streets and chariots pulled them along in the skies.

Harry knew what war was like, he'd been in one, after all, but this was so much _more_ than he was used to. He'd been in fights, in skirmishes, but this was a larger scale that he hadn't seen in the wizarding world. That was relatively contained, _this_ … this was large and scary and impossible to ignore in the way that the muggle world had brushed the wizarding war off as terrorism, or something. _This?_ _No_ _one_ was going to be able to brush _this_ under the carpet. Aliens were real, and they were in New York. Chitauri zipped by his vantage point from time to time, taking no notice of him, and he even saw both Iron Man and Spider-man whiz past separately.

But even with so much happening right outside, he still wasn't satisfied. He hopped to his four paws and trotted over to the lift. Now, he wasn't expecting J.A.R.V.I.S. to open the doors, or let him off the floor, but he was willing to bet that the stairs were somewhere close to… _there!_ A door a few meters away from the lift, labelled with such an obvious "STAIRS" sign that he felt stupid for missing it. The handle was parallel with the floor, still there was a tiny crack that let light into the stairwell, and the door apparently wasn't one of the types that swung heavily shut and smacked you on the rear because it simply sat slightly open.

Hiro was able to nose it open – well, he had to shove it with his back legs braced on the doorframe, but whatever. The metal railing provided a clean view of the central shaft that ran down the entirety of the building. A cool breeze blew up and around, ruffling his black fur, whistling and generally creeping him out. Something was broken on a lower, or higher, floor to allow _that_ in. The cat just ignored it, beginning his journey up step by step, not knowing which floor he was on, but knowing that everything interesting was going to be found on the upper floors. What Hiro _hadn't_ considered, was that each step was as tall as him. This was going to take a while…

* * *

 **I am SO SO sorry for the delay, please blame SBA testing. I know I do.**

 **Sorry for the short length of this chapter. Just wanted to get a tad bit of Hiro in there so y'all know what he's up to. And I originally had Peter shouting "HOLY MOTHER OF MOSES!" but it didn't sound right, and he just seems like the type of person to make random sci-fi movie references. Like me.**

 **One last rant... THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! We are at 146 reviews, 270 favorites, exactly 400 followers, 50,515 views, and I really hadn't realized, but this thing had hit 57,650 words before I posted this chapter (so now it's more... wow...). Once again, THANK YOU for all your support. I really can't believe it sometimes (read: most of the time).**

 **See ya later!**

 **Lucky (tries, she really does)**

 **To elithturtle: Oh just you wait! The cat-to-boy scene is pretty good, if I do say so myself.**

 **To winfield56: Sorry you had to wait, and that this one's shorter. But it's always good to hear from you people!**

 **To SIlvermane1: Um… I don't think I'm familiar with that fandom, sorry…**

 **To Hannah (Guest): Don't worry, I have until like, chapter thirty-something already written. Which is good, 'cause otherwise you guys would be waiting MONTHS for each chappie. I'm sloooow…**

 **To twilightsirius: Ha! I love it! I think you'll like a certain scene I wrote in a future chapter.**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Have I said how much I enjoy your reviews? 'Cause they're awesome sauce. Anyways, thank you, and you know Hiro so well! Aw!**


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Invading Alien Soldiers Don't Make Good Friends

Sometimes Peter didn't like being right. The Chitauri had discovered that he was a larger threat and now everybody wanted a piece of Spider-man. Speaking of which…

" _Hey_ , watch where you're pointing those things!" the brightly-colored vigilante shouted at the nearest alien, whose last blast almost separated his ear from the side of his head. As it was, it left a light scorch mark on his hood and he had to twist his body mid-air to avoid the next one. He landed on one hand before using it to bounce back up and land feet-first on the nearest armored extraterrestrial. The teen quickly dispatched the remaining two, slinging a web onto another's gun and causing it to backfire, then flicking his wrist to swing away.

"We've got civilians trapped," Hawkeye informed them over comms.

"Clearly you're somewhere _I_ haven't been," Spidey shot back. "I'm on my way." One of his shoes found its way to a Chitauri's face as he repurposed a chariot as a way to conserve webbing while he surfed the thing in the general direction of Stark Tower. As it swooped lower, the superhero took the opportunity to leap down to a rooftop perch.

Another flying vehicle zoomed by with a flash of green, but Captain America broke radio silence before he could. " _Loki_. They're fish in a barrel down there."

"We got this. It's good," Black Widow assured him. "Go."

"You think you can hold them off?"

"Captain," Hawkeye put in seriously, though he could hear the note of humor in his voice, "it would be my _genuine_ pleasure."

"Don't worry your pretty little shield about it Spangles, I'm on the roof. On your _left_ ," the young spider finished when the blonde proceeded to look everywhere but at him. " _There_ we go. Now, shoo!" In the background of his hesitation, the sound of an arrow being released rang out to sensitive ears, a _thunk_ when it hit its target, and an odd technical sound as something else happened and three more bodies dropped.

Captain America finally decided to trust them, jumping off the elevated roadway dramatically onto a bus as yet another craft focused its aim on the American-flag-draped hero. A lucky shot flipped the car and caused him to go flying with a stumbling landing, right before the aliens themselves flipped to the side as Spider-man upset the balance of the machine with his bodyweight. His opponents fell, accompanied by unearthly twin shrieks, while the boy spared a quick laugh at their expense. But it didn't last long as he got back to work, knocking them out with a firm fist and stringing them up, then moving on swiftly.

"Just like Budapest all over again!" Black Widow called at her longtime partner as they flawlessly shot each incoming foot soldier from shallow cover.

The archer gave her an odd glance, looking like he would really rather not recall that. "You and I remember Budapest _very_ differently."

"You know what this reminds _me_ of?" Spidey butted in almost absentmindedly, gaining a slightly incredulous grunt from Hawkeye as the smaller flipped of the back of one Chitauri onto another, then dodged a shot without a thought.

"Do I _want_ to know?"

"There was this guy – no, not _you!_ " He interrupted himself as he tossed his opponent into two others. "– who was impersonating the Lizard – _wait your turn!_ – and he threw a salamander at me." The older man did a visible double-take, blinking a couple times as he tried to digest that statement.

" _What?_ "

"He threw a salamander at me."

"No, I heard you. But how does _that_ remind you of _this_?" Landing on the bottom side of a still-standing streetlight so that he was upside down in a crouch, all the teen offered in explanation was a small shrug and an uncertain hum before launching back off acrobatically to reengage. He did more flips than Black Widow, something that seemed unnecessary at first before the aliens got so caught up in that fact that they seemed to forget he was actually effectively taking down creature after creature, the flamboyant stylings a captivating distraction.

But there wasn't much time to linger on the thought as yet another wave of Chitauri came, trampling everything under heavy-heeled steps, and it was back to fighting. A punch there, a kick here, a brief respite from the gritty battle when Spider-man tossed half a dozen of their enemy into a legitimate _spiderweb_ between buildings. They heard the captain's voice over the comms ordering around a bunch of policemen, and Iron Man's flares were bright enough that they could see them from where they continued to clash, fists against lasers, webs against armor, bow against… face, the teenager supposed as he watched, impressed, as Hawkeye KO'ed another one. The next soldier that charged the blonde had its feet swept from under it and an arrow plunged into its head as Widow both strangled an unlucky alien with her thighs while simultaneously electrocuting it over and over.

Spidey kept a careful eye on both of his new friends, though never missed a beat in his own deadly dance with at least three at a time. The next few stupid enough to challenge the redhead were taken down by their own weapons, snatched from the bodies littering the asphalt. Another attempted to tackle the hawk, only to be intercepted by an overenthusiastic, red and blue spider that rolled with the thing into a car with a grunt and a shouted, "Behind you!" The boy was slammed into the ground by meaty hands as the Chitauri shoved its slimy face closer to his own, snarling. "He's busy right now, care to leave a message?"

Spider-man jerked his head to the left at the buzz in the back of his head, an armored fist leaving a crater where his head had been. The owner of said fist growled in frustration, a click-clacking sound coming from its mouth. "Great! I'll tell him!" Another punch, another crater, but it had his arms pinned down in such a way he couldn't escape, its knees – maybe? – pressing his legs down. Hidden behind a taxi from the sight of his allies, it had a terrible opportunity to get up close and personal with the arachnid. The thing's face was just half a foot away from Spidey's kerchief and its face somehow conveyed gruesome delight at the thought of the many ways to torture, kill, and maim.

The brunet's nose wrinkled underneath the fabric. "Dang, do you _ever_ brush? That's just _nasty!_ " Not that it could understand him. The Chitauri drew a harsh hand up and brought it down with a spike of some sort, a small, knife-size weapon that fractured the left lens of his goggles with ease. Drawn back out with an agonizing squeal, it left a little, jagged hole in the gold-tinted glass. He was quiet now, all serious, knowing that another hit would cave, then another to finish him off if the second did only blind him.

A tiny cut was opened high on his cheekbone, near the corner of his eye, from the strange spike-knife, but Spider-man was focused on shifting his legs ever so slightly… just _so_ … just a _little_ bit, so that he could do something. A grin spread across his chapped lips as he finally maneuvered without notifying his captor and he wasted no time with clever quips, as much as he enjoyed them. One strong push allowed him to curl his legs up, like he was about to do a backwards somersault, and he stuck his feet to the head of the Chitauri on top of him, thankful for the practically paper-thin, worn-out soles of his shoes that let him utilize that ability. Bringing his legs back down, hard, he smashed its flailing body into the ground, where it remained motionless while he stumbled to his feet with less than his typical fluidity.

A second-long peek over his shoulder showed him the same scene he left earlier with his "friend": a pair of super-spies taking down platoons of extraterrestrials with impeccable aim. Apparently, Captain America had returned to join the two and he was just in time to watch Thor fry a few with lightning as he swooped down to the ground, bracing himself on an overturned car. Only Hawkeye noticed his approach, somehow, without even turning around. "Nice of you to join u – man, what _happened_ to you?" the man finished with a question, finally seeing his dirtied hoodie, the cracked lens.

The teen waved a hand halfheartedly in the air. "Oh, you know. Just making friends." Through the half-inch hole, a round brown iris peered out and met the archer's eyes, a trickle of blood making its way out of sight from a slice near it. The fingers of his other hand had blackened tips from scrabbling at the road and they trailed along the crushed hood of a truck as he made his way over.

"… whatever you say, Spidey," the archer hesitated, before dropping it as he took in the scrawny figure's appearance. The blonde went back to fiddling and fixing his arrows.

"What's the story upstairs?" Cap' spoke up, directing his query at Thor.

"The power surrounding the cube is impenetrable," the response came solemnly.

"I thought we established that earlier?" Spider-man muttered to himself and crossed his arms.

"Thor is right," Iron Man said over the comms while completely ignoring the youngest's commentary, "we gotta deal with these guys."

Widow posed the question they were all thinking. "How do we do this?"

"As a team." The vigilante almost scoffed at that. What else would come from Captain America's mouth but something as clichély inspiring as that? Maybe he was out of character, but it had been a long day, and he'd just come back from almost being stabbed through the eye by E.T.'s evil twin. So, cut him some slack if his sarcasm was a bit darker than usual.

"I have unfinished business with Loki," Thor protested.

"Oh yeah?" Hawkeye called over with a glint in his eye. "Get in line." Spider-man made a sound of agreement and the only woman of the group nodded much more elegantly with a similar gleam in her piercing eyes.

"Save it," the man-with-a-plan cut them off. "Loki's gonna keep this fight focused on us and that's what we need. Without him these things could run wild. We got Stark up top, he's gonna need us to—" A soft puttering broke into what was bound to be a rousing pep talk and an old motorcycle that looked like it was on its last legs sputtered to a stop behind the captain, none other than Dr. Bruce Banner riding it. The man looked like he had seen better days with his wind-ruffled hair, presumably borrowed clothes, and general filthiness, though he seemed to be enjoying the slack-jaw look of shock he'd created.

"Science bro!" Spidey cheered over everyone's heads, hands up in the air as they all gathered closer to the dismounting figure. He received a two-fingered wave as hazel eyes scanned the chaotic destruction.

"So, this all seems _horrible_ ," he summed up.

"I've seen worse," Black Widow countered cautiously.

"Sorry."

"No, we could – _use_ a little worse," she amended, and the tension was palpable.

"Stark, we got him," Captain America said into his earpiece.

The comm unit crackled slightly to life with a voice. "Banner?"

"Just like you said."

"Then tell him to suit up. I'm bringing the party to _you_." They all looked up at just the right time to witness Iron Man bank around a corner, down the street they were gathered on, followed by an angry… whatever those flying worm things were called. The boy jumped a little as it crashed through a building without care and proceeded to tear up the pavement, trees, cars, and everything in its way in its quest to catch the metallic billionaire leading it onwards.

"I-I don't see how _that's_ a party," Widow stuttered in a way that made Spider-man question if it was sarcasm or shock while Thor adjusted his grip on his hammer with a growl. His own masked jaw might have clenched a bit when the worm-monster crashed its underbelly into the road but didn't so much as slow, but nobody needed to know _that_. Dr. Banner began to stroll towards it like it was just an everyday walk in the park. A decimated park with wildlife from the cretaceous period.

"Doctor Banner," Rogers cautioned uncertainly, "now might be a _really_ good time for you to get angry."

"That's my secret, Cap'n." The man glanced back over his shoulder, irises flashing green. "I'm _always_ angry." With that, he turned back, skin changing to green, muscles thickening, growing several feet in a way that had Spidey shifting back on the balls of his feet. Suddenly, where there once stood Bruce Banner, there was now a shirtless, raging Hulk that promptly slammed a giant fist into the… snout?... of the worm-thing, grinding it to a halt. Thanking the laws of physics as he ducked behind a vehicle with Hawkeye, the teenager watched as the tail end of the monster flipped over, bending the armor plating in such a way that it disconnected, allowing Iron Man to launch a missile into its flesh and explode it all over them. _Yuck_. But hey, the car got the brunt of it.

Captain America had covered himself and Black Widow with his shield like a patriotic turtle and Thor had just stood there, more bothered by the light of the explosive than the debris. As the massive carcass flopped down, they gathered again in a circle, watching each other's backs while the Chitauri clinging to the buildings screeched at them. Some removed their masks, revealing alien faces that the young superhero _really_ hadn't wanted to see again. The Hulk answered back with a roar of his own, matching them in volume and strength. Everyone with a weapon put them at the ready, Spider-man adjusting his stance tensely.

"Guys?" the fire-haired assassin cautioned, staring at the onslaught of chariots and more worm-monsters pouring out of the portal.

"It had friends," Spidey whispered to himself.

Surprisingly, Iron Man turned to the soldier. "Call it, Captain."

"Alright, listen up," the blonde started firmly. "Until we can close that portal up there, we're gonna use containment. _Barton_ , I want you on _that_ roof, eyes on everything. _Stark_ , you got the perimeter. Anything gets more than ten blocks out, you turn it _back_ or you turn it to _ash_."

"Wanna give me a lift?" the archer asked the robot.

"Right. Better clench up, Legolas." The young brunet snorted as they took off.

Rogers continued with decisive gestures and a solid strategy. " _Thor!_ You gotta try and bottleneck that portal, slow 'em down. You got the lightning, light the _bastards_ up." The god of storms spun his hammer by the strap and shot off without a word, eager to get back to the fight. Spider-man bounced his weight back and forth between his feet as he watched the red strands of Black Widow's hair fly about in the wind and their leader addressed her next. "You and me, we stay _here_ on the ground, keep the fighting here. Spider-man, you're more mobile, keep doing what you're doing, take out the chariots, the soldiers, whichever you can get to. And _Hulk!_ " The behemoth jerked his glare towards their group of puny humans with a grunt. Not even missing a beat, Captain America simply pointed upwards. " _Smash_."

* * *

 **ON YOUR LEFT! You know, that was unintentional until I realized it was a reference. Then I just about died 'cause I love that part of CA: Winter Soldier with Sam. Sam's great (and that's without mentioning Falcon and his Redwing pack). The random dude throwing lizards is a nod to the strangeness of the Lego Marvel Superheroes videogame where their Curt Conners literally throws lizards at you. Just… what?**

 **My excuse this time for being late is that I fell asleep before I could post. Sorry! With the way things have been going lately, let's just say updates are on Tuesdays OR Wednesdays, yes? I'll still try my best to get them out on Tuesdays, though.**

 **Lucky**

 **To MidnightStar (Guest): Aw, thank you! Harry'll turn up in a few chapters… but I'm not telling you which one! ;P**

 **To winfield56: It's always too short for the readers… I should know, I've read enough of these things. I guess part of that is the whole "leave them wanting more" thing? Mostly I just need to cut it off SOMEWHERE and these tend to be the best places.**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Of course! But I'm afraid you might have to wait a couple chaps for that part!**

 **To MerlinGryffindor: Hope I didn't disappoint, 'specially since this is Peter's crazy experience.**

 **To SoraMalfoySlytherin: (1** **st** **review) Haha, yeah. I don't do it enough… (2** **nd** **review) Thanks! And I believe Loki might play a part that has something to do with that later... but I'm not going to spoil my own story! =)**

 **To I Love My Brown Eyes: Well, thank you for reading and for the wonderful compliments! All in good time!**

 **To twilightserius: *singsong* But I'm gonna make you! Hehe…**

 **To SilentProwler: Ooo, you just wait! I'm not forgetting anything when it comes to the let's-beat-up-Loki scenes.**


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine: All We Do Is Smash, Smash, Smash, No Matter What

Hiro was so _done_ with stairs. Just _done_. _Why_ were there so _many_ of them?! His mouth was hanging open and his little pink tongue was dry from his panting even before he got close to the top of the tower. But he got there, at least, and it was a great point to see whatever was happening outside, even better than the lower – but still high – floors. After taking a well-deserved second to catch his breath by the stairway's opening, he bounded towards the floor-to-ceiling glass on the far side of the room. The windows blended almost seamlessly into the doors to the deck, a curved walkway with its own transparent railings. Not that he really registered any of that, Hiro actually stared right through it all at the streams of electricity lighting up the Chrysler across the way.

It was impossible to miss. Lightning crackled around its antennae and down the sides, creating an amazing show of bolts like the one on his ear, the one previously on his forehead. At the very top, a figure stood out, not because of his flashy armor, but because he was darker than the surrounding energy. Thor's hammer was raised high above his head as it channeled an insane amount of power down from the encroaching clouds and used the top of the building as a sort of lightning rod. The light reflected up to the roiling portal and zapped a pair of skrewt-things about to swim – or was it _fly_? – out of space into the city, effectually blocking passage through the hole. Smaller explosions failed to reveal the opposite side of the interspatial doorway when Chitauri-carrying chariots crashed into the dead bodies of the monsters still caught in the free-floating nothingness of space.

The kit finally tore his eyes away from the spectacle to take a real look around the floor he was on. The floor plan was mostly open and unfurnished due to the newness of the tower, though the _bar_ off to the side was fully stocked. A rather ugly desk sat on his right with a bunch of crates that held Merlin knew what by a raised walkway leading in from the Iron Man landing pad. There were lights and plants and probably a _hippogriff-load_ of technology embedded in the walls – and everything else – that he didn't understand. The floors were smooth, cool concrete beneath his paws and the overall feel of the open floorplan could go either way, futuristic or rustically homey, depending on the furniture when it was put in.

Surprisingly, it was mostly untouched, not including the person-sized hole in the window that he had _somehow_ missed beforehand. Oh, and there was _another_ one, off of the side of the person-hole, but rounder. Suddenly, his green irises were yanked away from his study of the jagged glass by something he never in his life – this one or past – thought he would see.

A great jade behemoth.

A Norse Viking with a hammer.

A giant flying space worm.

The Hulk and Thor were on the _back_ of one of those skrewt-monsters that had just gone shooting rapidly past the windows of Stark Tower. The two were effectively _surfing_ the giant alien while bashing the foot soldiers' heads in.

Merlin's _pants_ , this world was mad.

Sometimes he was still waiting for someone to pop up with a video camera and tell him that they were yanking his wand, that it was just all a big joke. But _no_ , Hiro really was sitting in a billionaire superhero's _tower_ in the body of a _cat_ , watching an alien _invasion_ of _New York City_. And yep, there was one of the people fighting the alien invasion on a building across the block, shooting them with a bow and arrow of all things.

Hawkeye never missed a shot as he watched the archer take down Chitauri after Chitauri. Sometimes he wasn't even looking at his target and other times he'd aim away and let the slipstream of a chariot do the rest. As Hiro watched, the blonde's head turned abruptly to watch a pair of extraterrestrial vehicles streak through the city. The one farther behind was shooting at the first, though not with very good aim, and the first seemed to be Natasha- _freaking_ -Romanoff with a dead alien body slumped over the controls. The arrow nocked in Hawkeye's bow followed them until it was finally released as they passed Stark Tower and the kit could see the second rider clearly.

 _Loki_. He growled in the back of his throat. The rumbling intensified when the god of mischief caught the arrow launched his way, then abruptly cut off when it exploded in his face. It _would've_ turned into a smug purr had he not been preoccupied with scrambling backwards and tripping over his own four feet as Loki flew off his craft and through the outer rail of the balcony. Hiro dashed behind a crate and peeped out before scrabbling his way up to the elevated walkway. Virescent eyes peered between slats in the solid railing just in time to see a very large, very _green_ blur crash through the other side of the deck and what was left of the windows. Loki smashed into the wall and left a dent at least half a foot deep as the Hulk pounded his fists on the ground like an angry gorilla.

"E _NOUGH_!" the snakelike Asgardian screamed once he got his feet under him. His tone made even the Hulk pause. "You are, _all of you_ , beneath me! I AM A _GOD_ , YOU _DULL_ CREATURE, AND I WILL _NOT_ BE BULLIED BY—" And then his legs were swept from under him, the verdant goliath grabbing one of his legs and slamming him into the floor repeatedly. Once on the right. _Thud_. Twice in front. _Thud-thud_. A pause as the beast considered his prey. Then twice more in front before he was thrown away in a crater on the right.

The Hulk stalked away, rage-filled as usual, and shot back, " _Puny god_." He continued out of the building, somehow not noticing the small bundle of fur rolling on the floor laughing at the sentiment. Hiro's eyes were watering with how hard he was laughing, something that only increased exponentially when his pointed ears caught the pathetic whine that Loki made from his hole in the floor.

* * *

 **… yes, that chapter title just happened. I honestly don't know where it came from (I kind of hate that song) and I facepalmed after I wrote it. So many regrets…**

 **I just had to include the "Puny god" scene, it's probably the best part of the whole movie. And since it's so short, y'all are getting double the chapters today! Yep, that's right you beautiful fan-people! Enjoy Chapter Thirty!**

 **…**

 **Just gimme a second…**

 **Lucky (will answer reviews at the end of Chapter Thirty, have patience)**

 **And happy Pride Month everybody!**


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter Thirty: Comess to Silence

"Stark, you hear me? You have a _missile_ headed straight for the city."

" _Excuse me?!_ We have a _what?!_ " Spider-man practically shouted into the comm.

Fury's voice responded in the same manner as always. "Excuse _me_ , is _your_ name Stark?!"

"I don't know," the teenager shot back, still sore about the secret identity incident, "you tell me."

"How long?" Iron Man interrupted the squabbling.

"Four minutes. Max. Pay load could wipe out Midtown."

"I'm a – little – _stuck_ – at the moment." The reply was accompanied by rattled clangs and thuds, like the suit was getting punched repeatedly from the outside. Though, seeing as Spidey himself was currently being chased by at least a dozen chariots himself, that was entirely plausible. The boy zipped through the air from web to web, far faster than the usual city traffic that was now upside-down and on fire. He led them through the streets, dipping low, soaring high, causing any number of them to crash into the ground or a wall or each other. For a race that seemed to have such advanced technology, they really were stupid. Couldn't even design a proper steering system.

But they had swarmed Spider-man out of nowhere, in the middle of one of his rescues, and driven him away from the terrified – and rather confused – pedestrians. It was like being chased by a hive of angry, uncoordinated bees and the comments over his earpiece told about the same story for his current teammates. Well, Hulk didn't exactly have a comm, and neither did Thor, but the others seemed to be pinned down or facing impossible odds. Of course, he sighed, that was his daily job.

"Hold onto your helmet, Shellhead," the adolescent arachnid warned as he kicked a charioteer and another alien in what he thought was probably the groin perhaps a little too gleefully. "I'm coming, and I brought friends."

A long-suffering sigh filled his ear – he'd only known Spidey for a day! – and the hero cracked a grin. "Ugh, is this what _I'm_ like? I've got to give Pepper a raise. And Rhodey." The billionaire paused for a second as a thought occurred to him. "First I have to _hire_ Rhodey, _then_ I'll give him a raise." On his end, the young brunet was pretty much ignoring him, save for a snicker, as he focused on the lessening trail behind him. Five left… now four… oop, two more gone, the driving Chitauri just found what Earthlings like to call a streetlight and spun into the other. Now there were only two left and he was on the same street as Iron Man, who was currently facedown on the sidewalk, getting beat up by a group of the same creeps chasing Spider-man.

"Incoming!" the teenager squealed with a wide grin spread under his mask, body twisting as he swung a very, very bewildered hoverbike of extraterrestrials towards the rest of their kin. All of them ended up sprawled out and knocked over like slimy bowling pins, well, except for the last vehicle-load behind him. Dang it. Thinking fast – and consequently impressing the Stark staggering to his feet – Spidey sprung off the pavement with one hand, then stuck his fingertips and toes to the metallic underside. He pressed himself close to the cool metal as the rider swerved around the street, once going right over the red-and-gold suit's head, trying to throw him off unsuccessfully. "Watch it, watch it, _watchit!_ " The entire chariot tilted right almost vertically and tried to drag the spider along a nearby building, though he simply detached bar his right hand and dangled until they righted themselves. "Hey, little help for your friendly neighborhood Spider-man?"

"Right," Iron Man's robotic voice agreed as Mr. Stark raised an arm. A pair of finger-sized missiles launched themselves straight for their opponents and – from what the superhero could see underneath them – blew their heads off. The vehicle itself angled down and Spidey let go, barrel rolling to a stop on the street, right up to his science bro's boots.

" _That's_ a headrush!" were the first words out of his mouth, despite his want to lay there on the nice, soft concrete and groan the word "ow" at his idol. "But don't try it at home, kiddies."

There was what sounded like a grimace in the older man's voice. "I wouldn't want to. And _I'm_ in a million-dollar suit of high-tech armor."

"Brag much?"

"Stark!" Fury barked in their ears, making the vigilante flinch from his continuous laying position. "Three minutes!"

"J.A.R.V.I.S., put everything we got into the thrusters," Iron Man said as he took off with only a stiffening in his joints.

"I just did."

"Don't do anything stupid," Spider-man reminded him seriously. His chocolate eyes followed the suit when he swiftly got back on his feet, one barely visible through the hole that now had a spiderweb crack towards the edge.

A pause. "What, like you?" That pause was telling, the boy knew. It was what he did.

"Just…" He breathed a sigh before brightening his voice. "Don't die, 'kay? I think the world would miss Tony Stark."

"No duh."

The young hero laughed before swinging off to find more trouble and – because he was _the_ trouble magnet – coming across it easily by nearly running into a squad of ten or twelve Chitauri fully armored and armed to the teeth when he set down to save webbing. He was down to his last pair of cartridges and the… whatever it was, war, didn't seem close to ending any time soon. His body instantly sprang into action as the first started firing at him, his mind instantly going into fight-mode, which was something like _hit, dodge, parry, OH SHOOT THAT GUY HAS A KNIFE_ normally and was now going five times that speed as he was attacked from all sides, the main phrase being _dodgedodgefliphitwebduckblockdeflectkickpunchOHDANGTHATGUYALMOSTTOOKMYHEADOFFBUTITDOESN'TMATTERBECAUSE_ _ **DODGE!**_

Spidey's unpadded suit did nothing to protect him from the blows he couldn't escape, the fabric slowly but surely getting covered in more and more scorch marks from the freaky alien guns that grazed him. The vigilante was surrounded as a few more aliens joined their friends, replacing the few he was able to take out. Eventually, one got a hit in, slamming him to the pavement in the middle of a mid-air dodge and making him easy prey for the rest, who blithely rained down punches and kicks on his prone from. With two holding his arms and legs, he couldn't even curl into a ball or attempt some daring escape like the last Chitauri he had one-on-one time with. A choked gasp made its way out of his mouth as he got the breath knocked out of him, right before the weight pinning his arms down suddenly disappeared.

The freed limbs flashed up to knock the one that had its claws curled around his shins as hard as possible in the head, uneasily ignoring the creepy way it twitched after he knocked it out even as his eyes caught the telltale blur of a swinging bat. But when he turned, getting to his feet, Spider-man found that it wasn't a bat at all, it was a bow, though Hawkeye certainly seemed to be using it like a bat. And effectively, too. Until an extraterrestrial got clever and snatched it away. The blonde brought his fists up in a boxing stance but looked as if he knew it wouldn't be enough as the Chitauri encircled them.

"Hawkeye?" the teenager muttered hesitantly.

"Yeah, Spidey?" the man answered.

"What are you doing?"

"Saving you."

"Okay… well, how do you plan to save _yourself?_ "

"… I didn't really think this through."

" _That's_ obvious." Their enemies, who had previously been prowling around them and observing with something close to amusement, tightened their enclosure.

The young brunet let out a – slightly – unmanly little squeak. "New plan!" He roughly grabbed the other around the waist to his loudly expressed chagrin and shot off a string of webbing at the nearest building. With one swift yank, Spider-man launched them from the middle of the now rather vexed mob of Chitauri soldiers and into the air, leaving behind nothing but the echo of the hawk's surprised screech. Even the discarded bow was towed along for the ride – almost hitting Hawkeye in the face until he caught it.

"What are you _doing?!_ " the agent shouted as they swung rapidly through the streets, narrowly missing a chariot. While the hero couldn't exactly perform his usual acrobatics with a passenger, it didn't stop a glob of webs from shooting back to clog up their mechanics.

" _I_ ," Spidey paused, banking around a corner, "am getting far way from the things that want to _kill_ us." The duo flew upwards in an arc before getting caught in gravity's grip once more. "Tactical retreat. Regroup. Whatever." Apparently, that answer was good enough for the archer, since he didn't want to die anymore than the teen did, and they continued their jaunty little swing through the streets of the apocalypse. They had just turned yet again down another thoroughfare when there was a slight sputtering sound, like an empty bottle of ketchup. The colorfully clad superhero hastily put his other arm forward as he drew his left one back, the same two middle fingers curling down to touch his palm. The ketchup-bottle sound happened again. "Oh crap."

They started to fall down again. "What? What ' _oh, crap'_?"

"Out of web fluii _iid_!" The answer dissolved into twin screams as the two mismatched males fell down, down, down… _CLANG!_ That's a dumpster. _THUD!_ And that's the purple birdy. Spider-man groaned from his position in the empty metal container, Hawkeye sprawled on top of him. "Ow…"

The older man grumbled something that sounded an awful lot like "I hate dumpsters" as he clambered out and left Spidey still laying on the bottom.

"I don't mind 'em," the vigilante moaned. "Unless I'm _in_ 'em." He sat up stiffly before vaulting out to stand next to the blonde. "I say once again, _ow_." Despite his joshing tone, something fell flat as he scanned the area around them.

"Something wrong?"

"I'm out of web fluid," the boy grunted unhappily. "Means no more swinging, no more tying the weird alien things up, I have to fight with my fists and feet."

"So?" Hawkeye shrugged. Sure, he was mostly a long-distance sniper, but there was nothing wrong with hand-to-hand combat. The spider seemed quite good at it.

A sigh. "I… I don't like having to hold back all the time. I'm afraid I'll kill someone. I don't do that."

"I don't think anyone would complain if a few of these guys went bye-bye," he reasoned, successfully keeping a straight face contrary to the surprise he felt at the fact that this scrawny, super-strong figure before him was _holding back_.

" _You_ don't know how their society works. All _we've_ seen is the army," Spider-man breathed as he still recovered from his divebombing the dumpster and then acting the cushion for Hawkeye. "I don't want to be the cause of any more grief." The other hesitated, sure he wasn't supposed to have heard that last part.

"Look," Agent Barton started, "that's noble and all, but we need to get back. You coming?"

"Of course!" the younger exclaimed. In spite of the mask and goggles, his insulted expression came through loud and clear in his posture and voice. "You thought I was going to _abandon_ you? _Not_ cool." Spidey led the way out of the alley still talking, then abruptly socked the first Chitauri they came across in the face. The alien dropped like a sack of potatoes. "I'm gonna fight, doesn't mean I'm gonna _like it_."

And then they were in the thick of it again, though not so much that they were about to die like the last time. No, not _that_ dire, but it was still a flurry of kicks and punches and flips – the last one mostly coming from the teenaged arachnid – then the retaliation of lasers, shrieks, and claws. Hawkeye would throw a fist over Spider-man's shoulder, hitting an incoming Chitauri, or Spider-man would full-on cartwheel over his blonde head and end up landing on one about to stab the man. There were a couple times when the hero would forget he was unable to use his web-shooters, would toss up his arm then mutter something not very flattering under his breath before annoyedly taking another extraterrestrial out. His plum-colored friend kindly ignored those few times – from what the teen could tell – and continued beating up Chitauri with his surprisingly durable bow.

"I can close it. Can _anybody_ copy? I can shut the portal down!" Agent Romanoff's voice suddenly spoke through the comms, slightly strained, during a lull in their fight.

" _Do_ it!" Captain America immediately snapped.

"No, wait," Iron Man joined in.

"Stark, these things are still coming!"

"I've got a nuke coming in, it's gonna blow in less than a minute," he revealed. "And I know _just_ where to put it."

Captain Roger's tones came through again. "Stark, you _know_ that's a one-way trip."

"Save the rest for the turn, J." The billionaire ignored the knowledge, speaking instead to his AI, who kept their part of the conversation private. Spider-man broke off from Hawkeye, jumping to wall-crawl up to the top of an apartment building with the other trailing behind on the ground.

"I thought you said you wouldn't do anything stupid," the smallest fighter reminded him in all gravitas.

"… stupid is a relative word."

"Mr. Stark—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, where did this ' _Mr. Stark_ ' thing come from?" he protested, trying and failing to change the subject on the teen's mind. "J, has he been calling me that this _whole time?_ "

"I believe so, sir." Even the robot sounded downhearted.

"Well enough of that, reminds me of my _dad_ ," Iron Man brushed off. "Call me Tony." The suit was almost to the portal, pointed upwards with a rocket-type missile on its back, heading into the unknown. Into a hole in the sky, to the other side of the universe, to blow something up with a nuclear bomb.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Stark," the brunet murmured, and the man and his suit disappeared.

* * *

 **All inspiration for the blow-your-head-off bit with Iron Man goes to the movie Suicide Squad. Secondly, I promise all the words in the title of this chapter are real, go look "comess" up if you don't believe me.**

 **And yikes, I'm sorry about the parts where it got so bland. My brain tends to be like an old car. It makes that sad sput-sput-sput sound and almost starts… but it doesn't.**

 **Did you like where I ended? Tell me!**

 **Lucky**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: True that. I'm just have a hopeless memory.**

 **To EvenLoveLies: 'Cause it's not even a question of** ** _will_** **he get into trouble, it's just when XD**

 **To Matt (Guest): Okay, so my timeline for this story is kinda weird. In terms of time, we're obviously right smack dab in the middle of the first Avengers movie in the MCU. In terms of Spidey-timeline… well, there is none. My version of Peter doesn't follow any sort of canon and I've been making up his backstory from different sources as I go. So, this isn't Spider-verse, Homecoming isn't really a thing (consequentially, neither is Infinity War, Endgame, or Far From Home because I'm ignoring that part of the MCU and if Civil War happens, it'll be totally non-compliant with the movie), and I'm not following the original Spider-man movie trilogy or the Amazing Spider-man movies. All we know about Peter's backstory/timeline is that Uncle Ben is dead, Captain Stacy is dead, Gwen Stacy is dead, and Aunt May is dead (good gods, I just realized how many people in Peter's life I've killed…). And sadly, Ned isn't here. Hope this ramble answers your questions!**

 **To Carl-the-strange: Oh, don't worry, y'all are actually getting close to that part. And I love some of the pairings people consider "weird" in crossovers. I can't find enough hp/pp, though, there's like, a black hole or something! I get bored with the usual Peter-pairings (Gwen, MJ, etc.) and really can't see Harry with Ginny sometimes.**

 **To winfield56: Oh, no problem! Thank you, as well. I really don't mind, it's fine, and I'm glad you keep reading.**

 **To SoraMalfoySlytherin: We're all mad here! XD (Some more than others…) I have a few scenes planned that I think you'll like…**

 **To twilightserius: I'm sooooorrrrrryyyyy! *runs over, falls on knees* Take me back! I promise I'll update!**

 **To Mink (Guest): Yeah, I know, I love that little tidbit and some of my favorite fics have a reformed Loki hanging around the Avengers and causing (minor) trouble. It's really fun to read. But I'm rather lazy and in this story, Loki's not being controlled, he's just the bad guy. Yes, this leaves less room for character development, but Loki's not going to be a humongous part of this fanfiction after a few chapters. I hope this doesn't cause you to stop reading, I don't follow a lot of canon.**

 **To era-a-romance: Ahhhhh! I swear, half of my reviewers are clairvoyant! Am I just that predictable?! Okay, deep breaths… anyways, yeah, there'll be some stuff like that coming up. Everyone gripes about seeing that kind of thing more, but I can safely say it will happen rather soon. Thanks for the review!**

 **To madsloth: I'm sorry for the… um… inconvenience? Problem? Something. Anyways, I'm sorry and I'll update the summary with something a little better. I was trying not to give anything away in the summary but still get people interested and get the warnings out. Again, I'm sorry. I hope you keep reading, but that's your choice. Things should make sense in later chapters and I'm fully aware of how slow I am.**


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One: Magic With A Punch!

It was like the entire city let out a collective sigh when the figures vanished through the gateway above Stark Tower, but Peter was still left holding his breath. His eyes never left, staring at the dark vastness of the space, and if he had bothered to glance away, he might have seen the last Chitauri foot soldiers drop like someone had cut their strings or the way Agent Barton stood just like him. And someplace else in the city, three other pairs of eyes didn't falter. But nothing came back out. The only thing that changed was the growing yellow light inside.

"Come on, Stark," Black Widow mumbled almost to herself and almost too quiet to be picked up by the microphone of the commlink. The seconds dragged on as hours. It was unbearable.

A soft sigh came through from the Captain. "Close it."

"No, no, no, _no_ ," the adolescent arachnoid mouthed breathily, far too quiet for anyone to hear. Ignorant of his inaudible and resigned protests, the portal began to shut rapidly as roiling energy and deep space were replaced by the sky. Back in its rightful place, but something was missing. A small something, comparatively, but he had a big ego. He _had_ had a big ego, the boy corrected himself. His eyes still hadn't left the place that had once led to the other side of space and was only the size of a window now.

It shut.

And there was a dot that looked an awful lot like a flailing human body.

That was something Spider-man was unfortunately familiar with and he couldn't mistake it. The small spark in his chest still holding out hope burst back into flame at the sight of the falling armored figure. "Yes!"

"Son of a gun," Captain America muttered with a smile in his voice. The dot continued to fall, plummeting towards the ground uncontrollably without any discernable attempt to slow the descent. He wasn't stopping.

"Crud," was the only word out of his mouth before he took off over the rooftops, leaving Hawkeye to follow on the ground once the blonde's eyes caught the brightly colored shape. The boy took a flying leap towards a taller skyscraper and landed on a surprisingly intact window, then quickly made his way up the rest of the broken wall via metal support beams. Sprinting to the other side of the roof, he looked down over the shorter buildings only an inch from the edge with no fear.

A couple more buildings away, the Iron Man suit was nearing the ground, far too close for comfort. All of a sudden, a great green blur slammed into the figure and then the nearest building. The Hulk – with Iron Man in tow – drug his hand down the side before hopping his way to the ground, where the suit was set down immediately before he looked away. Spider-man backed up a few steps, then suddenly ran forward and swan dove off the shattered structure, freefalling down countless stories before sliding to a stop along a metal support to jump to the next building. A hop, a skip, and a wall-crawl later, he flipped down to the circle of Avengers just as the verdant creature roared loudly at the face-plate-less superhero. The deafening sound shook the remaining glass around them as it echoed down the empty streets.

Tony Stark startled awake with an eloquent: "What the hell?!" as the teenager jogged over. "What just happened? _Please_ tell me nobody kissed me." That elicited a snort from Captain America while the darker-haired man got to his feet, though further conversation was halted abruptly when a red-and-black blur almost tackled him back down to the ground.

"You said you wouldn't do anything stupid!" the spider reprimanded him and removed himself from the side of the suit.

"Well, it wasn't _entirely_ stupid," Mr. Stark argued, "and I _did_ save the city so—"

"You _died_!"

"Just a little bit!"

"Your heart stopped! I-I couldn't – I couldn't hear your _heartbeat_!"

"You can hear that far?"

"Stop changing the subject!" Spidey cuffed the back of the billionaire's head before lowering his own as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, sudden bravery gone. "I'm just – I'm glad you're okay." He toed a small chunk of pavement, kicking the rock a little.

The other sighed. "Me too. That'd suck." At the slight laugh, he cracked a signature smirk, spreading his arms out. "And not just for me, for the _world_! It wouldn't be the same with Anthony Edward fricking Stark! But rewind to 'what happened?'" Cap' looked like he wanted to protest against the language but settled for a soft laugh as he gazed around. The Hulk simply stood there, huffing quietly and watching his puny teammates banter with Thor in the background.

"We won."

"Alright," Mr. Stark half-groaned, half-cheered. "Hey. Alright. Good job, guys. Let's just not come in tomorrow. Let's just take a day. You ever tried shawarma? There's a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don't know what it is, but I wanna try it."

"We're not finished yet," Thor warned from where he had been standing silently.

The cocky philanthropist slumped a little, downtrodden. "And then shawarma after?"

"Sure, Stark," Captain Rogers agreed with shocking sarcasm. Who knew the uptight soldier had a _fun_ side, Spider-man thought, absentmindedly picking up the sound of pounding footsteps behind him. Hawkeye.

"The _hell_ happened here?" the archer asked comically after sweeping the scene: a slightly twitchy Spider-man sticking close to a now helmet-less Tony Stark, Captain America minus the cowl still crouched tiredly on the ground, Thor standing with the other two, and Hulk impatiently staring at them all.

"… a lot of things," the Captain breathed into the silence.

"So, where's Loki?" Everybody glanced at everyone else – except Hulk – as they slowly realized they had no clue where he went. The last time any of them had seen the mad god was when Hawkeye, who was currently staring at them with a raised eyebrow like he couldn't believe they'd lost a war criminal, blew him into the Tower. From behind, a thick green finger nudged Spidey's shoulder, making the enhanced youngster stumble under the strength of the behemoth, who had barely taken any damage in the entire battle.

"Hulk smash," he grunted at the teenager when he turned around.

"You… _smashed_ Loki?" Spider-man guessed.

"Hulk smash puny god," came the confirmation, to Agent Barton's clear joy. The blonde had a huge smile on his face, while Thor seemed slightly worried and even the soldierly Rogers had a bright half-smile on.

"Well, where did you leave him?" A huge green hand pointed towards the top floor of Stark Tower with another grunt. Bruce Banner's other half didn't seem to be very talkative. "'Kay then, off we go." The motley crew began to make their way around the toppled cars and building debris, slowly but surely moving towards the damaged skyscraper. Other than the time Spidey vaulted over an upturned taxi and Hawkeye muttered "Show off," it was a quiet, solemn walk.

As they got closer and closer, the piles of rubble got bigger and bigger and they found numerous small fires that were hastily put out. The adolescent brunet looked around, he saw the broken windows, cracked concrete and even as his humorous mind tried to figure out how to fit the Hulk in an elevator, he worried about the people of the city he protected. About how everything would be repaired, hoping things would get back to normal or better. He would help as best he could as both Spider-man and Peter – though really, who could _Peter_ help? – but he couldn't do everything. Especially considering how many things required _money_ , something he really did not have. Something _he_ was actually in need of too.

Unconsciously, the boy let out a soft sigh while he studied the top of a nearby building, then caught the Captain staring at him from the corner of his eye and skipped a few steps to catch up. The Hulk was tromping along at the front of the group and had to duck comically to make it through the front door, then again for the surprisingly huge elevator. "Who makes a Hulk-sized elevator?"

"Someone with too much money," Agent Barton snarked with a smirk.

"Hey!" Mr. Stark yelped.

"What? It's true." Apparently, there was no prepared comeback for that argument, so the armor-clad man simply grumbled unintelligibly under his breath as the machine swiftly delivered them to the top of the tower. When the doors finally slid open, they were greeted with the fiery redhead everyone knew as Agent Romanoff standing there with her arms crossed and a blank expression. Totally unruffled – except for a few minor injuries – and impatiently waiting for them. Her eyes traveled to Agent Barton and efficiently scanned him for anything major before moving onto the rest of them with a small nod, the Hulk earning a raised eyebrow.

"Come along boys," she beckoned. "Let's go retrieve our god." And with that they all followed her across the floor to a more destroyed version where part of a solid concrete wall was crumbling and one of the windows was pretty much gone. Not to mention the god of mischief laying weakly in a crater in the floor, which the Hulk looked weirdly proud about. The funny thing was… Loki seemed to be having a staring contest with a cat.

"The heck is Hiro doing up here?" Spidey half-sighed, almost used to his pet's shenanigans by that point. "Whose _brilliant_ idea was that?"

" _I_ told J.A.R.V.I.S. to take him somewhere safe," Agent Romanoff defended herself.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., where did you take Webhead's cat?" Mr. Stark called towards the ceiling, evidently having restored his AI's access to the systems on the way up.

"I safely deposited the feline on Floor Eighty-Three, sir."

"Well, how'd he get up _here_?" the youngest asked.

"I believe sir left the stairwell door open on Floor Eighty-Three when he was running from his twelve o'clock meeting previously." Everybody turned to look at the bearded man, who at least had the forethought to adopt a sheepish expression. Spider-man physically facepalmed.

"Oops."

"If I may—" The god in the hole began, only to get sharply cut off by Hawkeye's quick motion of nocking an arrow he found and aiming it straight at his face. He raised pale hands in an unsure imitation of the universal sign of surrender, though the motion only made two more people palm their weapons and not a one relaxed. Everyone knew his penchant for tricks and magic. Even unarmed, Loki could do serious damage if he wished, yet he seemed injured enough to wisely not try anything. "May I speak?"

Captain Rogers surreptitiously glanced at each person in the room and met each of their eyes, including Spider-man's, before giving a sharp – if cautious – nod.

" _Wonder_ ful," the liesmith drawled superiorly. "As I was trying to tell you peasants, this ' _cat'_ is not normal." A few pairs of eyes turned towards Hiro, who was innocently cleaning his ears with his paw, and Spidey simply raised a brow at Loki.

" _Really?_ That's it?" he scoffed. " _I_ could've told you that. Hiro has a tendency to get into things he's not supposed to and he's pretty smart, but there's nothing too abnormal 'bout him. He's just a weird cat."

"And _that_ is where you are wrong," the god sniffed with his nose in the air with Hiro behind him, preening at the praise. "This ' _Hiro'_ is not a cat." All conversation in the room screeched to a silent halt and even the kit was glaring at the Norse deity. It was a simple, insane phrase that took them all a second to comprehend and Mr. Stark was the first to react with a loud bark of laughter. Nobody else joined him, but the tension decreased drastically, and they all stopped staring at the black animal.

"Pretty impossible," the billionaire snickered as Captain Rogers rolled his eyes more at Mr. Stark than the concept, causing Spider-man to join in with a little laugh of his own.

"I assure you it is not."

"Prove it."

"Gladly." And with that Loki's hand shot out with his winding green magic twisting through his fingers and twining around the midnight-colored feline sitting on the ground next to him, who didn't seem thrilled with whole predicament to the young arachnid. The entirety of the gathered Avengers – plus Spider-man – surged forward a step as the green light brightened… then collectively shuffled back as it cleared leaving… his goggles must've been dirty because that looked an awful lot like a _person_. The brunet shoved his lenses up into his filthy hair and blinked twice, but the hallucination didn't fade and he let out a mildly embarrassing squeak.

There was a _human being_ that seemed around his age sitting wide-eyed on the partially destroyed concrete next to a tired-looking god of mischief. The boy had messy black hair that looked as if it hadn't seen a brush for years – though how long had it been since Peter picked him up in cat form? – and almost luminous emerald eyes, the color was so bright. With his pale skin, he looked disturbingly like Loki, though his eyes were brighter, and his skin still had a healthy tone while the fallen god was rather gaunt. Beside Spidey, Mr. Stark mumbled something about drugs in his coffee.

Hir—the boy squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again rapidly in a confused imitation of a blink before opening his mouth. "Bloody hell." Another, more normal, blink. "Now I know what Malfoy felt like when he was turned into a ferret. Ruddy disconcerting, that is."

"He's British," somebody mumbled in the back, though the… well he might not be the youngest anymore… vigilante couldn't tell. Whoever it was was right though, the stranger had a clear accent in his words.

"Yes, I am," the raven-haired teen nodded in agreement. "I can hear too." He cocked his head and gazed off into blank space as if trying to remember something. "Now, where was I? … ah, yes." Those green eyes flicked to Loki, still sorely sitting in his pit with a smug smirk on. " _You_."

"Me?" the silvertongue echoed almost amusedly as the boy got to his feet. He was rather thin and lanky, though not tall and still shorter than Spider-man. "Well, I suppose I can accept your thanks whenever you feel it is the right time to give _iiiii—!_ " Loki interrupted his own haughty speech with a loud screech that continued to rise in pitch as his body achieved liftoff and slammed into the ceiling with enough force to crack the plaster. The green-clad body smashed into a wall as it followed the movements of the apparently telekinetic new guy's hand as said superpowered individual let out an impressive string of insults.

All Spidey could catch was: "—cking _git_ – son of a basilisk – stupid prat – manipulative _bastard_ – manky excuse for a man—" and a number of curses he didn't even want to think about, they were so bad. Once and a while the boy would slip into some odd other language that almost sounded like raspy hissing, then back into English – though you wouldn't have thought it was English from the number of confused looks in the room. That is, if you could look past the eyebrows slowly escaping into everybody's hairline. Eventually, the god was set back down in his crater none too gently, though was then jerked right back up and hung from some invisible rope with a hatefully muttered " _Levicorpus."_

By now, none of the superheroes' eyebrows were visible and Loki was dazed, half-conscious, and groaning as he hung by his ankle. The teenager had a wolfish smile on his face as he stepped closer, now nose-to-nose with Loki. " _Don't_ mess with my friends." The words were growled and punctuated with a swift strike to his nose. A sliver of red trickled out.

"I believe in magic," Mr. Stark muttered breathily around the wide grin that had appeared on his face. Behind him, Agent Barton nodded with a matching smile, and Captain Rogers got on the comm with Fury, eyes still widened.

"Really?" the boy tilted his head to the side. "Well that makes everything _much_ easier."

"Not really," Agent Romanoff stepped in. "We have some questions." She ignored the whispers of "We _do?_ " from certain teammates. "Who are you? Where are you from? Are you another Asgardian?"

"Are you Loki's illegitimate son?" Mr. Stark shouted over Thor's shoulder after the god had stepped up curiously to better see the stranger.

"What the hell?! _No!_ " The raven seemed thoroughly disgusted at the thought as his eyes darted back and forth between the strung-up invader and the philanthropist. He finally stopped on Loki, looking him up and down from toes to head with an odd expression. "Though… it's _missing_ something… ah, I know! _Colovaria!"_ With a wave of his hand, his target was now clothed in a hot pink version of his Asgardian outfit, eliciting no small amount of laughter from the superheroes as he smirked at his work proudly. " _Per_ fect! Where were we? Oh, right. I'm Hiro, you all know that, don't you?"

The redhead in the room was hard-pressed to maintain her straight face. "You must've had a name _before_ Spider-man named you."

"Why do _you_ want to know?"

"Security purposes."

"Ah." Apparently that answer explained everything to… should he still call him "Hiro" now? "If you're going to look me up, I'll tell you now, that won't get you anywhere. I'm not from around here. In a way."

"So, are you Asgardian?" Agent Barton questioned.

"No."

"Are you from Earth?"

"Yep, Britain."

"Are you from _this_ Earth?" Mr. Stark piped up, wriggling his way out from the muscular body-blockade.

" _No_ ," Not-Hiro grinned lazily, enjoying the game and the effective change of subject.

The genius engineer took a couple seconds as he seemed to run calculations in his head before throwing his hands up. "I just proved the multiverse theory!" he crowed, then focused in on the adolescent with laser-focus… for Tony Stark. "What's it like? What're the _people_ like? Is it like here? Are there others like you? Is _everyone_ like you? Are there dinosaurs?"

"Yes, yes, no, and no?" he replied after a moment. "It's rather like this world, but there's less technology. Probably because there's no Tony Stark." Mr. Stark looked equal parts proud and horrified at that statement. "There's a _really_ small percentage of people that can do what I do. We're called wizards and witches."

"Like Gandalf? Merlin?"

"Merlin was a real bloke. Who's _Gan_ dalf?" The only response the newcomer got to his inquiry was a dramatic gasp and faux swooning motion. He rolled his virescent eyes and turned semi-awkwardly towards Spider-man, who had just realized he'd been uncharacteristically silent the whole time and was trying to blink himself out of his stupor. "You good?" Unlike with Mr. Stark, he fidgeted nervously when faced with the other of his age. His smile dipped a tad and he fiddled with the hem of the black shirt he was wearing. In fact, his whole ensemble was black, from the jeans to the tennis shoes, but it showed that he was mostly just happy to be clothed in the first place.

"Yeah, yeah," Spidey said mainly to himself. "Just… adjusting my whole world view." A few more seconds of contemplation later and he clapped his hands together, perking up. "I have about a bajillion questions though. First of all, what should I call you?"

"I _am_ partial to 'Hiro,'" the re-renamed teenager responded cheekily, while his smile communicated his happiness and his eyes promised a thorough explanation later.

"I updated the director," Captain Rogers spoke up, cutting right through Mr. Stark's flamboyant explanation of _The Hobbit_ , which no one was paying any attention to. "Explained the situation and that you're… a friendly, apparently." Everyone eyed where Loki still hung, eyes unfocused.

Hiro glared at the god once more and sighed. "I suppose I _should_ take the snake down. Though that's an insult to snakes. _Liberacorpus."_ The greasy-haired man flopped back down onto the floor. " _Incarcerous. Immobulus._ Just a little extra protection." Thick cords had popped out of nowhere to wind around their captive, who had gone stiff.

The blonde blinked. There was a lot of that going on, the spider absently noticed. "Okay. Now we need to figure out what to do with you."

"'To _do_ with me?'" the boy bristled unhappily. "I'm _not_ going to be locked up."

"No one said you would be," Agent Barton soothed even as he was still smiling absurdly at the rope-bound Loki. "I like you too much for _that_ to be effective."

"More like a living situation," the captain explained. "You… don't exactly _exist_ here."

"True," Hiro conceded with a loud sigh-moan. "Hey, I'll just tag along with Webhead. Never boring there."

"What?" Spider-man startled, not expecting that suggestion and very prepared to lose his friend, though not happy about it. Hiro was looking at him expectantly, excitedly, and confidently. His eyes met the other teen's, chocolate and green, and then he saw the shield there. The same shield Peter had, but thinner as it held back less, only trying to hide the uncertainty, the nervousness in front of the heroes, letting hope leak through. He didn't like seeing that shield on somebody else. Is that what everyone saw when they looked at _him?_ Just a barrier-façade between them and his guilt, his worthlessness, his tiredness and melancholy? No, now was _not_ the time to reconsider this, the world didn't need his problems, and everybody had enough of their own. So, he smiled softly and broke the second-too-long staring contest. "Oh, sure, yeah. I've got plenty of space." Heck, he had the whole city. "It'll be fun."

"Famous last words," Hiro singsonged with a mischievous smirk.

* * *

 **The moment you've all been waiting for has happened! Voila! Hope I mostly lived up to expectations. Tony's a lot of fun to write (he loves being the center of attention) and I'm sorry if Harry/Hiro is OOC, but I've had a lot of fun crafting his personality.**

 **If you're observant, you'll notice something about Hiro that I seemingly "missed" when I was describing his looks. If you haven't found it, go back and try.**

 **If you're even more observant, you'll notice three of my chapter titles make up a slightly altered line from Infinity War.**

 **You know, I updated early last week (on Monday) and that was purely 'cause I legitimately thought it was Tuesday… my life, ladies and gentlemen.**

 **A note to Dylan-A-Friend: I had planned the cute Hulk and Hiro scene I talked about forever ago for this chapter, but it got too long and I decided it would happen later. Not sure if it'll be in MITE, or if I'll have to write a one-shot (oh, the HORROR! It's not like I don't have half a dozen OTHER ideas for oneshots already!) or some such thing. IDK. But it shall happen at somepoint! I swear it!**

 **Be seein' y'all!**

 **Lucky (had way too much fun thinking up the ideas for this chapter)**

 **To tr96ey: Oh my flarking gods yes. Unfortunately, that doesn't quite jive with my future story plans but maybe I'll do a oneshot with something like that… keep an eye out, I might just use this idea! And thanks! =D**

 **To SoraMalfoySlytherin: Gods, imagine the damage the son of a Marauder and Deadpool could do… jeebus… they'd probably drive poor Peter insane…**

 **To Matt (Guest): Kind-of-not-really? Not sure how to answer that phrasing… as you can see, Hiro (Harry) is not a cat anymore. But yes, my ultimate plan is to pair the two boys together and have them help each other through their many problems. Hope that answers your question!**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Thanks! I personally think that sometimes the best thing a writer can do with a character, be it an OC or established canon, is just let them hang out. You don't need a huge event to characterize or show things about someone, usually it's just the little tells. Though big events do show other sides and are kinda the dramatic-fun reason books are written…**

 **To sammyfox: THANKS! (Sorry, I couldn't ignore the caps lock… XP)**

 **To Lockolocka: Oh my gods, your review just made my entire flarking day! You're so sweet! Hope the transformation scene (and doesn't that make this sound like a stereotypical anime… das't, I should really go find wherever my brain-mouth filter disappeared to) didn't disappoint! I loved writing it. I've gotten a few chapters written ahead, I wish I had more written 'cause you guys are catching up fast. Inspiration comes in waves, it seems, but I shall not be defeated by writer's block, I promise! Thank you so so much for the amazing review! =D**


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two: Getting to Know You

*TIME SKIP: 2 WEEKS*

It had been an eventful couple of weeks since the day the sky opened up and rained aliens on the Big Apple. After the shortest visit to the Helicarrier in history, Peter and Hiro had disappeared into the city once again, not even sticking around for the celebratory shawarma feast. Hiro had happily figured out that the black cat was his Animagus form, which led to an interesting conversation about that after he exited from the bag into the alley Peter touched down in. He had _also_ discovered that his vison had _not_ improved. At _all_. Leading to a good deal of stumbling into things with Peter laughing it up in the background.

The brunet had taken to the whole "magic-cat-boy" thing surprisingly well, but then again, he _had_ seen more than his fair share of weird during his time as Spider-man. He'd gone as far as to help Hiro dig around in the donation boxes outside of stores for a grey sweatshirt when the nights got too cold, and half-jokingly offering him somebody's old walking stick – minus the hook – from a garbage can when he walked into yet another lamp pole trying to follow the more nimble teen. He still had the old stick. People tended to get out of the way when you walked past while tapping the end on the sidewalk like an old blind man. It was also helpful when he wanted to poke Peter for laughing too much.

Now they were being typical homeless people and sitting on a practically grown-over bench in the middle of Central Park, both half-asleep. Peter's head looked like it was going to fall off and tumble onto the grass behind the bench as his mouth hung open, prompting a series of quiet giggles and snorts from the wizard. Hiro himself had shamelessly propped his feet on his friend's legs, missing the light blush on the spider's cheeks, and was slowly succumbing to the welcoming afternoon sun's call to sleep. His grip on his stick loosened and it fell to the lawn with a soft thump as he drifted into darkness.

…

When he jolted awake, Hiro didn't know what time it was, only that it was later as the sun cast long, gold-lined shadows on the ground. But he was more concerned with the position Peter was in, leaning forward on his knees, face covered by his hands and head propped up by his elbows. His hair was ruffled from sleep and a bit too long to comb back with his fingers like he usually did. It flopped over the sides of his head from what his fuzzy vision could make out. Hiro's feet had fallen out of his lap at some point.

The raven sat up carefully and prodded what he guessed was Peter's shoulder gingerly. "Hey."

"Sorry," came the mumbled answer.

"No," Hiro said. "You okay?" The brunet shook his head yes, not convincing the other in the slightest. "Hm." Peter let out a snort-laugh and sighed deeply before sitting up to lean against the armrest of their bench with a too-bright smile plastered on his face.

"So, what's up with you?" he attempted. "Have a funny dream?" The emerald-eyed teenager continued to look unimpressed with him, even though his irises were looking somewhere to the left of where the arachnoid's head actually was. It was still plenty effective, however.

"Stop hiding," he chided, a small frown marring his face.

" _You_ stop hiding," Peter mumbled like a petulant child and slumped down in his seat.

Hiro snickered at the tone, then appeared to contemplate the idea seriously. "Okay." He supposed he could accept the obvious change in subject if it meant clearing _some_ of the air on his end.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay." They looked at each other for a split moment and burst out into raucous laughter, filling up the evening air in the forested portion of the park around them.

"Okay," the raven-haired one breathed absentmindedly, causing another bit of giggling, "what I _meant_ was, ask me whatever questions you have. You said you had a billion—"

"A ba _jil_ ion."

"Yes, that. We haven't really gotten a chance to just _talk_ ," he finished knowingly. It wasn't exactly hard to notice the amount of moving around they'd had to do recently. With the casualties and damage the city took, the authorities were out and about more often. While that was good news for the kids who lost their parents in the invasion and had to be sent off to other family members or the apartments that needed protection from common thieves, it wasn't great for the pair. And though Hiro still disapproved of Peter's "I'm not going to associate with anybody or accept any help" motto, he didn't want to be separated. "Ready, steady, go."

"Uh," Peter hesitated as he thought it over. "Oh, how many spells do you know? What can they do?"

"Oh _Merlin_ , I don't know! Why you'd ask _that?_ " Hiro groaned comically with a little smile. "Magic can do a lot of stuff. In school we learned about potions, charms – which was basically spellcasting – magical plants and animals, and transfiguration – turning things into other things – plus some other stuff."

The still sleep-messy American had a dangerously audacious smirk now. "Double, double, toil and trouble?"

"Oi, shush up you."

"But really, a school for witches and wizards?"

"Yeah, Hogwarts," he paused, waiting for the few snickers to die down. "Wizards name things weirdly. It's a first through seventh year school, middle and high school for you yanks."

"What's it like?" the enhanced urged, sitting forward.

"Barmy, absolutely _barmy_. But great. The staircases move, the paintings _talk_ to you, potions is actually in the _dungeons_ , the Great Hall – it's rather like the cafeteria in a normal school – has a roof that mimics the sky, I ran into a door that wanted me to scratch its back once…" The young Brit continued to ramble about the school, gesturing wildly with his hands with every sentence. He illustrated with passion his old school, the teachers, the students. Peter soaked up every word, before posing a question that didn't thrill him as much as the previous ones had.

"But what was _your_ experience?"

Hiro froze in the midst of lowering his hands from a particularly large flourish and stared over Peter's shoulder with an inaccuracy that had nothing to do with his lack of glasses. Finally, he set his arms down in his lap with a tiny slump in his posture, letting out a small breath. "Both awesome and terrible."

And so, he explained everything to his closest companion.

How his parents were killed by a Dark Lord called Voldemort and he was sent to live with his relatives, the Dursleys. Their abuse and his constant work, not even knowing his name before hearing it on the first day of school, and the insane arrival of his very first Hogwarts letter. His first year with Quirrell in the maze of challenges under the school. Second year and the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets after being shunned by the whole of the school. Then came third year, and along with it dementors, murderers, werewolves and hippogriffs. The Triwizard Tournament in fourth year that put him up against a dragon, mer-people, and finally a maze meant to kill him even with _out_ the portkey to the cemetery.

Cedric dying.

Voldemort rising.

And nobody believing him. Fifth year with Umbridge at Hogwarts and the prophecy in the Department of Mysteries. Sirius dying. The craziness that came with the next year even before Dumbledore's death at the end, then being taken to the Weasleys' at the end of the next summer, where everyone tried to pretend everything was still normal. Horcrux hunting, learning he was going to die, that the purpose of his life was the end of it, and walking to it anyway. The nightmares he had and the horrors he had seen, the feelings of being abandoned and alone even in a crowd and the pain inflicted. How he got to Peter's world. "And I think you know the rest."

Hiro stared at the ground between his feet, where he thought that the blurry long thing next to them was his walking stick. He didn't know how long his explanation took, but it was either deep into the evening or into the beginning of the night. His hands fiddled with the hemline of his hoodie as his mind whirled a thousand kilometers per hour from the memories he had just dredged up and the million possibilities of Peter's reaction to his less than perfect life. He wanted to leave Harry behind with the terrors he'd found in the wizarding world, but he wasn't so delusional to separate himself completely. It had been his life and it left its impact in more ways than physical scars. If Peter was going to accept him, he'd have to accept his old life.

The raven hadn't noticed it, but Hiro sat in almost the same position he had nudged his friend out of earlier and the other set his slightly tanner hand on his arm. He mimicked their earlier conversation with a reassuring countenance. "Hey." Hiro sat back with a quiet snort, though he opened his posture to cock his head at the brunet. A mixture of uncertainty and a touch of challenge. "Whatever happened, happened," he said decisively. "Now you're here."

They shared a rather emotional few-second smile before Hiro spoke up. "Well that's good, 'cause I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

"So, I'm stuck with you?" Peter sniggered.

"For better or worse," the wizard mocked, relaxing against the back of the bench, unconsciously gravitating towards the other half of the pair. "Like a bowtruckle on doxy eggs."

"What?"

* * *

 **I'm freeeeeee! No more school as of the 14th! (Until September, but we're not talking about that…) I also passed my driver's test yesterday so hooray for that as well! That's my life at the moment… back to the story!**

 **If it seems like Peter and Hiro are too chummy for not knowing each other that well, note that they've really been living together for two years and still have a sort of dynamic that hasn't changed drastically. Maybe it's a little awkward, but not like they won't talk to each other or are skirting around each other.**

 **I know this type of chapter is boring, but sometimes you just need something like that. It's also rather short, so, sorry.**

 **Chapter title is straight from what I like to call the Stalker Song (you know,** ** _getting to know you, getting to know aaaaall a-boooouuuut yooooou_** **).**

 **Lastly, next chapter is the cameo chapter! Yeah, that thing y'all voted on forever ago, it's here!**

 **Lucky**

 **To Enes: You're welcome, I suppose! That's a lot of thank yous! Glad to know you liked it!**

 **To Carl-the-strange: Yeah, there'll be a lot more of that coming up soon! Always awesome to hear that you enjoyed the huge reveal chappie!**

 **To kossboss: Honestly, that's a pretty accurate summary of that chapter, LOL.**

 **To : That's a different type of magic, so he probably won't. They will probably interact and compare notes at some point (possibly in a sequel or one-shot, IDK), but I don't want Harry to be OP and he already has a good handle on his own magic, which is powerful in its own right.**

 **To Werewolfshaverights: Thank you! And don't worry, Hiro still has his cat form! I can have some fun with that in later chapters… ;P**

 **To MayaHikari: Oh good gods there are so many ideas swirling around in my mind! I'm going to have so much fun with those four. Thanks for the review and your support!**

 **To era-romance: Okay, so I agree with everything in your amazing review and you really shouldn't apologize for rambling (though I might be a hypocrite for saying so). However, as much pity as I feel for Loki and as much as I absolutely love reforming Loki and then having him make mischief with other characters, that will not be a huge point in my story. Now that Loki is back on Asgard, he probably will not appear again, unless something changes. I know that in the MCU, Loki was mind-controlled, hence his bright blue eyes in the original Avengers. But in my story/AU he's not. He's just a bad guy. I recognize that this limits character building and such, but I have no real plan to make Loki a bigger part in this. Sorry if that's not what you were expecting. Deadpool and Venom may or may not appear, but if they do, it might be a while. Sorry for any disappointments… I really do love Loki, from the bottom of my mythology-obsessed heart!**

 **To tempetapapillon: It's gonna be great! Especially with Tony's protectiveness sometimes.**

 **To SilentProwler: Oh my gods! LOL! I just might have to use something like that, we'll see.**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Thanks! And well… they might not be at the Tower per se, but that adorable point shall be utilized!**

 **To SkylerHollow: Thank you so much! I'm always afraid I'm straying too far from canon for it to be likable. Hope you liked this chapter too!**

 **To Phoenix373: Okay, so I see how this might be confusing… but I did mention in the previous chapter that he was wearing all black, like the color of his fur in cat form. "** In fact, his whole ensemble was black, from the jeans to the tennis shoes, but it showed that he was mostly just happy to be clothed in the first place. **" So, yeah he has clothes on, but he kinda only has that one outfit… hope that explained that!**

 **To Beth9891: Thank you! And since he's now an animagus, Hiro the cat isn't really gone forever!**


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three: What's In A Name?

*TIME SKIP: ABOUT A YEAR* ( **A/N: basically, a year after the Chitauri invasion, so Hiro and Peter are seventeen-ish now. –Lucky)**

Living in a tower with genius, a super soldier, an assassin, a god, and a part-time rage monster made for an interesting lifestyle, Clint mused as he strolled down the New York sidewalk. Especially when said genius liked pranks just as much as the bird-themed archer. Just last night the blonde had been doused head-to-toe in surprisingly high-quality shaving cream that made him look like a melting abominable snowman, though he had reveled in the squeals he got out of Tony when he started throwing the stuff at the billionaire before simply full-on tackling the man. He couldn't even remember what that prank had been revenge for. Clint had lost count of who-owed-who-what a while back, but what he _did_ know was that he was officially out of pranking supplies. Which only meant one thing…

He needed _more_.

And this shopping trip of Tony Stark's doom was also an _excellent_ opportunity to plan his retribution without the off chance that someone would try to stamp out his train of thought. Well, Steve was the only one who even _tried_ to half-heartedly protest after living with them all for a year. Bruce just moved out of the way, Thor found everything hilarious – something that stroked his own ego – and Natasha tended to ignore his antics unless he accidently caught her up in something. Then his only option for survival was to run away and hide until she cooled off enough to consider maiming or embarrassment rather than _murder_.

The blonde shook his head a little in the bright sunlight, trying to get back onto his original train of thought. Where was he? Ah, yes, revenge planning. He had a bag of wonderfully shocking pranking supplies, plus some random junk food, in each hand and about a dozen ideas flitting through his brain about what exactly he could do to the metallic superhero. All Clint had to do now was to choose one and he smiled slightly wickedly at the thought. He supposed he could just enjoy the warmth of the day for now and do all the "hard work" once he got back to the tower.

As his eyes flicked around and his lips curved upwards in a smile at the practically perfect day, he caught random details in his surroundings and catalogued them unconsciously. On his right, there was an Asian man in a blazer and scarf walking his golden retriever in the park. The male had curly hair and his dog sported a hot pink leash. Clint's blue eyes moved on. A gaggle of soccer players, judging by their neon blue uniforms, exited from a pizza shop across the street. One girl on crutches hopped along at the front; there were two redheads, four blondes, two brunettes… and one bright female with neon green at the tips of her hair. He caught the smell of garlic wafting over, making his mouth water even though it was definitely past lunchtime.

Behind the excitable team was a trio of faintly annoyed joggers who looked like soccer moms, but who weren't with the players judging by their lack of attentiveness. The Caucasian woman gossiped loudly about her landlord to the Pakistani woman who looked like she really didn't care. However, the Southern woman at her side seemed totally immersed in the tale – and yes, he knew that wasn't a technical race, but Clint could hear her thick accent as she exclaimed something loudly. He was pretty sure he could've heard it without his hearing aids in, though didn't test that theory.

On his own side of the street, there wasn't much to note among the commonly bland commuters and the typical storefronts. But his eyes caught on a closed martial arts dojo and the duo sparring inside of it. They fought with staves as tall as themselves and the girl with the Mediterranean complexion seemed to be winning.

Her hair was pulled back in a fishtail braid and dark until it faded to a bleach at the end and her eyes were just as deeply colored. She wore what some would call "punk" clothes, ripped black jeggings, the same shaded combat boots, layered black leather and silver chain belts. The loose charcoal midriff top, entertainingly enough, read "RIP Barbie" on a gravestone with a half-buried doll. One bright pink heel stuck out, the only spot of color. The boy fighting her had darker skin, but lighter clothes, and both wielded their weapons confidently, the boy perhaps less so. Clint slowed to a halt almost unintentionally to watch the girl knock the boy's staff out of his hands, sweep his feet from under him, and hold his flat, panting body at staff-point all in one fluid motion. There were flaws in her technique that his agent's mind picked apart, yet the rest of his brain saw how good she and her friend were for teenagers their age.

The girl glanced up at the blonde, finally realizing he was there, and recognition and a touch of awe flashed through her dark irises before she smirked. A twirl of the wood in her hand released her partner as she straightened back up, comically pointing the staff at him through the window with a grin as if challenging him. Clint smiled back easily but declined the invitation to spar and had to stifle a laugh when he caught the slightly disappointed twitch at the corner of her mouth as he walked away.

A few dozen long strides brought him far enough away from the dojo that the neighborhood took a turn for the worse, the whole atmosphere seeming to become darker as the buildings became more run-down. It was a patch of bad neighborhood he usually passed through without worry to get to Avengers Tower. Because who would mess with an Avenger? Well… there _was_ that one time with the foolish pickpocket who got his hand broken by Thor, who had then personally carried him to the hospital and apologized. Clint was sure that being carried like a damsel in distress hadn't helped the already thwarted thief's ego. Made an interesting photo for the newspapers, though. People _still_ couldn't figure out what was going on with that one and he laughed quietly to himself at the memory.

Suddenly, his good mood was cut off as the unmistakable sounds of fists hitting a body floated their way to his ears and he stopped, looking around for the culprit.

"Don't got any little buddies to help you out, huh? Whatcha gonna _do_ , pretty boy?"

A groan followed the angry words, speeding his pace up. The hubbub led the archer to a particularly nasty-looking back alley, but something changed before he could jump in to save the day. The person-getting-beat-up noises changed to a scuffling shuffle of sounds, clattering wood, a squeal, a groan, and again the pound of someone getting hit. Clint rounded the corner cautiously, both bags transferred to one hand as the other's muscles clenched in preparation, and he found a… well, not a _fight_ per se…

There were two teens and one scrawny, rat-like man, the latter pressed against a dirty brick wall. One of the adolescent boys had messy brown hair, ruffled from what he could assume was a fight, and a scattered collection of bruises on his face. He favored one leg ever so slightly and there was a painful-looking bruise peeking out from his torn – and not fashionably so – jeans, as well as one from under the sleeve of his worn, olive-and-grey hoodie. A glance at his face showed the faint tightness of someone hurting, but mostly worry in those chocolate brown eyes. But not worry of being _attacked_ again, no, the worry seemed to be directed at the greasy man who had _beaten_ him.

Who was currently propped harshly on the wall by the second boy with the remnants of an old… walking stick? The man himself wasn't remarkable other than the exceptional amount of hair gel his head contained. The teenager, on the other hand, was definitely something. For one thing, he seemed to be blind, or at least partially, with dark sunglasses and the cock of his head that gave away how he was listening to his surroundings. Pitch black hair was pulled back into a tiny, messy bun near the crown of his head and he seemed to radiate a dangerous air directed at the criminal whose windpipe he had effectively trapped.

"Hi," the raven was saying. The tone was lighthearted for the tension in the alley. "I'm Peter's 'little buddy.' And you are?"

The only response was a squeaky attempt at speech that left Clint with the problem of containing his laughter.

"Thought so," the boy sighed almost genuinely if not for the hint of dark humor. "I'll let you off this time. Here's the compromise: I let you go, you run off, you do _not_ steal from people, and you do _not_ mess with my friends. Yes?" This next squeak came through as an affirmative to the proposition and thinly veiled threat. "Wonderful." With that, the man was released and dashed abruptly into the blonde watching the scene from the sidewalk.

The agent-turned-Avenger met his eyes with a hard stare that elicited another squeal-ish sound from his throat. "Is that _all_ you can say?" he asked with a chuckle that was at odds with the message the rest of his body communicated. Looking like he was about to faint right then and there, the man instead turned and bolted unsteadily away from the three left at the scene. Young laughter erupted once he had cleared at least a block in under five seconds and Clint turned back to the teenagers, one of which was bent over in hilarity.

"Bloody _bril_ liant!" the one with the sunglasses applauded happily and he realized with a jolt that he had a British accent. "Good show!"

The brunet seemed to snap out of the trance staring at the famous archer had induced, grinning widely at his friend. "Awesome!" His eyes moved to the edge of the backstreet and stuttered to a starstruck stop on Clint, something unidentifiable in them. "You're Hawkeye!"

"That's my name, kid, don't wear it out," he perhaps preened a bit. Fans were, after all, good for the ego.

"Whoa." He seemed to be stuck on that word and the man suddenly hoped he hadn't broken the kid's brain.

"Peter… Peter… Pe _ter_." The raven whined the last one humorously before snapping his fingers in front of what he could now assume was Peter's face. "Come on, mate, I thought you said Stark and _Banner_ were your favorites."

"W-well, _yeah!_ " the brunet protested with flushed cheeks. "But he's still an _Avenger!_ "

"We see them all the time, their tower's right around the bend."

"But never up _close!_ " The still unidentified teen gave Peter an unimpressed look over his sunglasses, giving Clint a glimpse of scintillating green irises. "Oh, shut up."

"I didn't say a thing," came the triumphantly smug reply. The brown-haired adolescent pulled a silly pout and turned his body a bit away and back towards the archer.

"So, what _are_ you doing down here Mr. Hawkeye sir?"

The man smirked, holding up his bags. "Pranking supply run. And call me Clint." His answer garnered a similar devious smirk to his own from the maybe-blind raven and a grin from Peter, who gave his companion a rather wary glance before coming back to his cheerfulness. The former rubbed his hands together above his walking stick in the comical way of stereotypical villains.

"Oh I _knew_ I liked this one," he stated. "My dad probably would've too."

He held a sentimental gleam in what little of his eye peeked out from over the slipping glasses and the oldest smiled. "Your old man sounds like fun."

"He and his mates were the best pranksters in the history of the whole ruddy school until the Weasley twins decided to follow in the footsteps of the Marauders."

"Didn't catch your name," Clint laughed at the response, wondering if he could meet them and completely missing the melancholy that briefly overtook the teen.

"Didn't throw it," he retorted before the other elbowed him sharply. "Ow."

"I'm Peter," he said brightly.

"Harry," the now-named raven let up with a mischievous smirk.

The blonde replied probably unnecessarily, "Clint Barton," and shook their hands after awkwardly transferring his bags to the other limb. He was starting to feel like a snow-laden tree, though the thought fled as he caught Peter wincing at his grip. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," the American waved off, "just a headache." Immediately, Harry grabbed his head and pulled it closer to study where his nose almost brushed his captive's hair. He ignored the weak protests in favor of studying and feeling under the hair until he found something with a worried frown.

"You're bleeding."

"I'll be fine."

"You might have a concussion," Clint put in, a cheeky smile on his face at their interaction.

"I'll sleep it off."

"You don't _sleep_ a concussion off." The boy pushed his glasses up on his nose as Peter opened and closed his mouth, then crossed his arms with a huff. "You know that, ya berk."

He grumbled before running a hand through his tawny hair. "Maybe."

The elder blonde raised his eyebrows amusedly. "Come on, I can get you patched up." That statement flicked Harry's attention from concern directed at his friend to what appeared to wariness towards him. He could imagine the teenager's eyes narrowing at him under the shaded lenses. The boy eventually stopped his scrutiny after a second as if it hadn't happened, switching the hand his walking stick was held in jauntily.

"Hup hup, Petey, let's go get you fixed," he beckoned and tapped the wood on the pavement. Peter groaned but wisely didn't argue after getting pinned by the Brit's eyes that pierced him even through the sunglasses. The brunet allowed Clint to lead the way with his fairly smug smile and instead brought up the rear after Harry, which seemed to amuse the raven. They didn't make much conversation, the silence punctuated by a tip-tap of the cane on the sidewalk every so often as the adolescent behind it found his way through the city. Despite his likely faulty vision and Peter's general distractedness at the fact that he was walking through New York with _Hawkeye_ , neither missed the fact that they were headed towards Avengers Tower.

"Holy _crud_ ," was the only whispered thing as they entered the lobby and Clint sent the lady at the desk a friendly nod.

"Quite right."

"C'mon kiddies, into the elevator." He shuffled them into the wide space, pressing one of the dozens of buttons lined up on the door-side. He watched Peter's eyes flicker around wide open and take in everything they landed on in the admittedly glamorous machine while the darker-haired teen observed what he could, listening to the rest. "This'll take us straight to the med bay. Hey, J?"

A voice answered seemingly out of nowhere. "Yes, Agent Barton?"

"It's Clint," the archer grumbled as his new brunet tag-along went even more wide-eyed. They could practically see the gears turning in his head. "Call Bruce down, will ya?" A pause.

"Dr. Banner wishes for me to relay his concern and tell you he will be there in a moment."

His snort echoed through the elevator. "That what he said?"

"I believe he worded it, 'Nobody better be bleeding on the couch again.'"

"Of course."

"Is that an AI?!" Well, sounded like Peter had found his voice again.

"No, it's a ghost," Harry deadpanned.

"I am called J.A.R.V.I.S."

"Cool. Hey, how fast do you think you could calculate the indefinite integral of _e_ to the power of _x_ times the sine of _x_ times _dx_ if _u_ equals the sine of _x_ and _dv_ equals _e_ to the power of _x_ time _dx_?" Clint blinked blankly, Harry sighed, and J.A.R.V.I.S. began instantaneously rattling off a list of numbers and words that the mini genius nodded along to.

"What _language_ was that?"

"Nerd," the disabled boy scoffed fondly. "Or computer geek, either." The intelligent youth kept babbling to the computer as the automated entrance of the elevator opened, and his partner had to shoo him out with the end of his stick as he still went on. Thankfully, that was distraction enough to get Peter past the couch, up on the medical table without any trouble, plus he stayed there long enough for Bruce to arrive just as he was asking another question.

"Chemical make-up of deoxyribonucleic acid."

"Adenine, thymine, guanine, and cytosine?" the doctor quirked an eyebrow, strolling in with a clipboard and a small smile.

"No, like phosphorous, oxygen, nitrogen, carbon, hy-hydro – Dr. B-Banner!" His list stuttered to a stop at the sight of his idol.

The man nodded before turning to Clint. "Hello. Clint, mind telling me why there's one blind and one bleeding teenager in our med bay?"

"I'm not blind," Harry put in and crossed his arms. His gaze lingered vaguely around Bruce.

"Just _half_ blind," Peter recovered.

"If you didn't already have a concussion, I'd give you one."

"With your eyesight? I'd dodge."

"You're going to get it tomorrow, you _complete_ and utter Dorcus." The three other people in the room peered at him strangely, to which he didn't respond, and Dr. Banner began gently probing the back of the injured boy's head. Harry turned their way, carefully nudging things with his cane until he could find his seat in a cushy chair by the table and took it, sighing contentedly. Back on the table, Clint's sharp eyes watched Peter reluctantly submit to the experienced hands of Bruce, who seemed less than happy with the whole situation and generally concerned. Catching the wince as his fingers passed over the side of his head, he paused.

"What happened anyway?" Another wince as inspection continued and he turned to grab a tube of some ointment.

"I never got the whole story either," the archer realized, intrigued.

The raven staring around from his seat spoke before anybody else could. "My _genius_ mate Peter here decided it was a good idea to place _his_ scrawny arse in between a purse snatcher and the lady with the purse." Said friend curved his lips downward in an amused pout as laughter echoed from the adults, making Harry smirk and resume his storytelling. "The woman got away, but as always Peter the punching bag had to have _me_ pull him out of the kerfuffle."

"Hey!"

"It's true. If you'd just—"

The chocolate-eyed teenager huffed, cutting off the second statement and ignoring it. "Suppose it's better than Puny Parker… ow."

" _Almost_ done…" Bruce trailed off as he finished pressing a padded bandage over the younger's temple. His mind wandered as his practiced hands finished checking over his patient one last time, finding decent distraction in what he had walked in on earlier. "You like science? Biology?"

"Yeah!" the brunet exclaimed excitably, then withdrew sheepishly. "Well, I'm better with technology and chemistry, I dipped into physics once—" For some reason, Harry snorted in the background. "—but I know _some_ biology. I-I've read some of your papers, actually, Dr. Banner, sir…"

"Just Dr. Banner, or Bruce is fine," he commented offhandedly. "And you understood them?" The impressed note in his voice was wasted on the oblivious boy.

"Mhm."

The blonde in the room made a surprised noise in the back of his throat. "You should've heard what he was spouting earlier! _d_ 's and _u_ 's and _x_ 's, crazytown."

Peter's cheeks flushed. "Just calculus."

" _College_ -level calculus." Hidden emerald eyes just missed the glare sent his way as a flippant smile tilted across his face.

"I read a lot."

"No shite, Sherlock. The books in your bag weigh a bloody _tonne_."

"My bag!" he shouted suddenly, eyes wide. "I forgot my _bag!_ " Jumping off the platform – to Bruce's plain exasperation, though he was used to it from living with superheroes – one arm shot out to snatch the zipper-edge of the hooded jacket they'd managed to coax off him. After almost tripping over an untied shoelace and then shoving said shoelace into his sneaker instead of tying it, the teen about forgot his friend in his race to get back to the alley. "Come _on!_ "

"It'll be _fiiiine_ ," Harry yawned and stood up to stretch like a cat. He was in total juxtaposition to the frantic youth by the door, but they seemed to work together.

"Did you forget what part of town we were in?!"

"I left _mine_ there, it'll stay."

"Sometimes I wonder what goes on in your head." The only response was a quiet, delighted cackle at the first sentence. "Now _both_ our bags will be gone!"

The paler of the two flashed them a smile as Peter dragged him from the room by the arm with the walking stick in its hand. His sunglasses dangled so that they were holding on by one ear and his eyes were bright with laughter. "So long! It was lovely to meet you all!"

The two adults shared a look. "Do they know where the door is?" Clint questioned around his entertained expression.

* * *

 **Hopefully you can guess which once Aziza was. If not, I'll just tell you now that she was the Mediterranean girl kicking the other guy's butt in the empty dojo.**

 **Once again, I have been faking my way through the genius-talks. I literally looked up "college calculus worksheet" for that part. But the DNA thing was all me. See, I'm smart! But as said before, I'm only in high school.**

 **Next-to-last, please note that Avenger's Tower will not be the one from Age of Ultron, nor will it be exactly like Stark Tower from the first movie. I'm making it up as I go (hooray for creativity!).**

 **Now, on a semi-serious note, I have to give you people a fair warning about how my summers work. My family travels A LOT. We go on a lot of road trips and we fly down south to visit family often, which doesn't leave me with many opportunities to update. Summer updates will be sporadic, but I'll update when I can. I know for sure I'll be gone to see family until July 16** **th** **and won't be able to update next week. You'll probably get at least one update before I'm gone again from around July 25** **th** **\- August 12** **th** **on a camping road trip and then updates should get back to normal mid-August.**

 **Sorry for the inconvenience, please be patient with me. Love y'all!**

 **Lucky**

 **To Lockolocka: Gods above I have no words for how sweet you are! That review was so entirely awesome and thank you again! It was so long that all the email had was the first half and then it was like "go read it in the browser, lazybones." But I have no words! And I know I already said that but still! You're amazing. Done deal. There's no need to be sorry for anything, much less not reviewing a chapter. I absolutely loved reading your opinion and would like to say good luck on your exams and everything! Also, get some sleep, Locko! ;D**

 **To SkylerHollow: Great to hear! I actually based some of their interactions off of me and my ridiculous friends, whose mental ages are 5 and 7, I swear, even though we're supposedly high school juniors now. They're hopeless, hilarious, and awesome. Anyways, sorry for the ramble, and don't worry, they'll get off the streets.**

 **To MayaHikari: Oh booo, sorry. I'll treasure it while it lasts! Have a good school year!**

 **To son of morgana: That might be a slight exaggeration, but I'll take what I can get! Thanks!**

 **To Vladimir Mithrander: Thank you! Always love your insight. Fingers crossed the boys can let those hero complexes go long enough to accept some help (though that might be more of a Peter Problem than a Hiro Problem).**

 **To Beth9891: LOL, they really are emotionally stunted. Happy to hear you like the portrayal!**

 **To Merlin (Guest): I've confused a lot of people with this detail… in this story/AU, Loki wasn't being controlled. His actions were all his own and he's an all-around bad guy. Now, I really do like MCU Loki and I do know that he was being controlled in canon, but I'm ignoring canon this time. I recognize the lack of character development that this causes with Loki's character, but I have no future plans for Loki in this story. Sorry. He's just evil this time around.**

 **To Guest (the one talking about Artemis Fowl): I love the series! And now they're making a movie! They just better not mess it up, I swear… anyways, thank you! =D**


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter Thirty-Four: In Which Conversations Are Held and Ninja-Assassins Are Surprising

Back in the alley with their bags, Peter looked at his magical ally strangely. "So, we're back to 'Harry' now?"

"No," he said with an unsavory expression, his nose scrunched up. "I _really_ like 'Hiro' better."

"So…"

A soft sigh as they casually exited the side street into the daylight. "It's a matter of your identity. The Hiro they know is a wizard-turned-former-cat with fanciful powers who's staying with Spider-man." They both allowed a tiny chuckle at the dryly given snark. "It's not a common name. Even with my hair and sunglasses, I _am_ him and I look like the wizard they remember. 'Harry' _is_ a common name and if they associate _me_ with _that_ and ' _Hiro'_ with someone _else_ , we're safe."

Peter nodded after the explanation. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For… all this." One hand raised vaguely and was followed by one black eyebrow from the other as it waved. They continued to walk, both knowing where they were headed by silent agreement and both looking simply as high schoolers off on an overnight trip. "You don't _have_ to stick around."

"Bollocks to that!" came the loud response, startling the brunet and a few of the people around them, who shifted uncomfortably away. "Where exactly do you think I'd go?"

"Um…"

"Exactly." It was said decisively and with a sharp nod.

"Sorry?" This was nervous.

Looking back on it later, Peter would thank whatever higher power had thinned the crowds as they entered a different part of the city before the next words past the mage's lips. "Oh for _Merlin's_ sake! That is _not_ what I meant! You get this in your thick skull _right_ now mate! You are _not_ a _bloody_ burden! I am here because I _want_ to be, _no_ other reason! If I wanted, I'd be _halfway_ 'round the _bloody_ world by now!

"So, _no_ ," Hiro ended, and his voice was only slightly calmer than before. "You are not allowed to be sorry."

The short silence rang through the air. "… how'd you get around the world?" the boy nit-picked out as a question.

" _That's_ what you focus on?" The raven tried not to glance over, but his blurry vision still caught the wide doe eyes and he groaned internally. "Apparation."

"Apparition?"

"No, that's a ghost. App-ar- _a_ -tion."

"… which is?"

"Wizard teleportation."

"Ah."

In his head, Hiro began to count. One… two… three… four… hm, this was taking longer than usual…

" _How?!"_ Ah, there we are.

As his cane bumped hollowly on a previously unnoticed rubbish can, he sighed, "Every time. _Magic_ , Peter. Magic."

"Yeah, okay," Peter ran a hand through his hair with a sheepish smile. One of his sneakers knocked a random pebble into a littered soda can, creating a clank that made Hiro jump slightly. Bellowed Christmas carols came from some random man across the street despite it being the middle of the summer. The enhanced teen winced a little on a particularly voice-cracking high note of whichever song the crazy was murdering and the two shared an exasperated, though amused, glance before ducking down a familiar side street. "But still, thanks."

"… you're welcome, Webhead." He let out a breath before reaching a hand up to rub the back of his neck. "Just… just don't _ever_ talk about yourself like that, please." Green eyes flitted about waywardly, latching on as accurately as they could manage. Peter's own softened as he gazed at his friend and he placed an arm around his shoulders with a sad smile.

"Sure thing, Magic Man." Neither chose to comment, despite the fact that both knew how weak the tease was. Instead they enjoyed the comfort the other provided and Hiro leaned his head on the other one's shoulder, hoping he wasn't too forward. They shared a light blush that decorated their cheeks, though no one of the two noticed that fact. The duo moved in time farther and farther from the alley and the tower until they were practically on the other side of the city from it. On the outskirts, the afternoon light casting tawny hair in gold if the raven looked from the corner of his eye at Peter. They were somewhere, probably near Harlem, he really didn't know.

They navigated by landmarks and from street patterns they saw from above, not the names of the streets and the numbers on the buildings. They knew the city like only street kids could, but they knew it intimately. Ask him what was on the corner of 5th Avenue and E. 57th Street, he couldn't tell you. Ask him where Trump Tower was, he could guide you there step by step… or just say it was a block or so from Central Park. Hiro sighed – and damn was there a lot of that going on that day – at his inane train of thought and made the last turn towards an abandoned building with the brunet still pressed against his side.

"Your head better?" he asked out of the blue.

Peter blinked. "Hm? It's fine."

"We could've stayed longer," the raven frowned. "I Disillusioned our stuff."

"No, we couldn't 've."

" _Yes_ , we could have."

" _No_ , Hiro." The teen arachnid removed his arm from the mentioned boy's shoulders, running his hand back between his brown locks. "We couldn't have, we _shouldn't_ have. I would've been fine. I _am_ fine." The second youth silently crossed his arms, scrunched his nose, and peered at him from behind shaded lenses. "Really!"

"So the bandage is just for kicks?"

Peter's hand drifted up to the red-spotted white. "Umm…"

"You're _allowed_ to accept help."

"I can't"

"Why?"

"You _know_ why."

"Then tell me."

"C'mon…"

"Tell me."

" _Fine!_ " the part-time spider snapped. "I stay away from them so they won't get _hurt!_ " Hiro uncrossed his arms and his whole stance softened as he rested against the old wood wall with melancholy satisfaction. "Because _everyone_ around me gets hurt! Everyone! And I don't want _them_ to get hurt! And I'd try to get _you_ away from… _this_ … but you're too dang _stubborn!_ " The wizard slumped an inch, studying the tense posture of his friend and how Peter's fingers threatened to rip right through the fabric strap he was strangling. Though that was the only sign that he was upset in any way. His face was carefully blank, the rest of his body hid his emotions well, but the walls seen in his eyes were pushed to the breaking point and beyond. He wasn't looking at the green-eyed adolescent.

Pale lips parted softly, uncertainly. "Do you want me to go?"

"Ye—no – uh, yeeeess—" the American slouched lower with a shaky breath. "No. _Please_." Unconsciously, both smoothly shifted over to seat themselves on the slightly sunken porch, out of view from the street and half-squashed by a tree branch from somewhere unknown. This time, Peter initiated the lean and practically fell onto the Brit. The side of his head that didn't have the red-spots rested heavily on the second's shoulder as Hiro tangled his fingers in his hair before burying his nose in it as well.

"Okay. I'm not going anywhere." He sighed, relaxing even more onto the half-blind teenager.

And that was when Hiro – formerly Harry – realized that he was hopelessly, hilariously, _clichély_ in love with one Peter Benjamin Parker. Right then, homeless, sitting on the sagging porch of a dilapidated and deserted house somewhere close to Harlem, with the concussed boy leaning half his weight on him. Sure, he knew he had a _crush_. Fleeting moments of "that's adorable" – more like a _dork_ able, he thought aimlessly – or "that's hot" and the accompanying blush with the latter when he realized he was thinking it. It was _such_ a teenaged romance cliché when he started looking more and more often, when he flushed red like a schoolgirl, when he finally figured out that the warm feeling had evolved into something larger than just liking. But Hiro didn't mind, not really. If that sappiness resulted in this happy feeling and Peter pressed against his side, he'd stand up and sing the cheesiest love song he knew in Times Square at the top of his lungs.

Then the moment broke apart as the hairs on Peter's neck stood at attention. The boy sat up abruptly.

… _BOOOOOMMM…_

The rumbling explosion sent a small tremor through the ground not a second after and the noise launched the arachnoid into action as he swiftly stripped himself of that jacket he'd had since who _knew_ how many years. At some point the duffel had been unzipped and the colorful hoodie of Spider-man almost thwacked the raven in the face as the other whipped it on.

"Hey!"

"Sorry!" By now the half-mask was up, the goggles and kneepads strapped on and the former pulled down.

"I'm coming too," Hiro started once he realized the hero was about to take off.

"No, you're going to stay _safe_."

"I can take care of myself."

"Bu—"

He leveled him with a firm – if a little unfocused – stare as he removed his sunglasses, revealing bright, viridescent irises. "Peter, I'm from another dimension, I know _magic_ , and I fought the git who killed my parents when I was in my first year at Hogwarts when he possessed my Defense professor."

"You _also_ ended up in the infirmary for pretty much the rest of the year after that."

"I shouldn't 've told you that… fine. But I _will_ be close by."

"Deal." The conversation had taken less than a minute. Spider-man backed up a few steps with a hop in his gait, then darted forwards before jumping and shooting a webline. "Take care of the bags, I gotta swing!"

A turn of his head showed Hiro that, yes, he'd just been saddled with all their luggage. "Merlin dammit P—Spider! _Depulso."_ The word banished the bags inside the house where it was certain no one would find them. Hiro yanked up his hood and Apparated away with a crack.

…

*POV CHANGE, AVENGERS TOWER, MEANWHILE…*

"Sir—"

"In a sec' Jarv'!" In the back area of the garage-like laboratory, sparks flew from a torch against the shining metal of an armored boot, flying around Tony's head and thankfully _not_ setting his hair on fire. Not that he would have noticed if they did. Loose wires hung out one side, making the high-tech footwear seem a lot less fancy.

"Sir, I believe you'll want to see this."

"What did I say about the moment, J?"

"To enjoy it, sir. But—"

"Ah-bup-bup!" the genius straightened and turned, one finger up in the air. The other hand held a blowtorch that was still burning. "Mute." He whipped back around to finish with the side of the boot that didn't have wires still dangling as a one-armed robot toddled over with a fire extinguisher. Sparks began to fly once more. The arm with the red canister inched closer and closer until it was swatted away by one tanned hand. "DUM-E! Back! Shoo!" A short series of sparks and one close call with the blowtorch and DUM-E's fire extinguisher later, Tony popped up energetically from his hunched position as he threw both hands in the air. "Voila! Now—" The man's triumph was abruptly cut off as the robot – which was _still_ hovering less than a foot away – sprayed white foam all over his head. "DUM- _E!_ " The claw-arm raised happily, then lowered at the expression on its creator's face… then lowered even more to where Tony's pants leg was singed.

"DUM-E, _no_ …"

Lower…

" _No_ …"

Lower…

"I will donate you to the community college…"

And DUM-E promptly covered the bottom of his leg and his foot with a pile of extinguishing foam. Tony sighed in a long-suffering manner before simply ignoring the mess. "What was that earlier, J.A.R.V.I.S.?"

"Mr. Barton brought two young men into the Tower." If an AI could sound miffed, this one definitely did.

"Did he now?" the billionaire perked up. "Why did birdbrain bring a couple 'a kids in here?"

"They were in the medical bay with Dr. Banner, sir."

"Hm." As he hesitated, a slow smile spread across his face, which never meant anything good. "Let's go talk to the good doctor then!"

"I cannot physically follow you."

"Expressions, J! Expressions! DUM-E, _stay!_ "

"I will be there in spirit, sir."

Tony snorted as he shut down the lights to the lab and threw the corners into dark gloom. Without the lights… it looked dead without something happening. Was it bad that he spent so much time in there? Of _course_ not! He trotted bouncily down the stairs to the elevator on the floor below. There wasn't an entrance to it on his lab's floor because it was apparently a " _hazard_." So, he'd blow a couple things up in there… didn't mean it was _dangerous!_ The doors opened with a vaguely irritating _ding!_ that made him wonder why he'd put it in in the first place and he stepped out onto the communal floor, where he hoped Bruce was at. "Honey, I'm _ho-ome_!"

"I'm not Pepper," Clint's voice replied amusedly from no less than a yard away, leaning against the wall with a PB&J and a paper bag.

"Ninja!" Tony yelled – he did _not_ squeak! – at the sandwich-bearing agent's appearance.

The blonde raised an eyebrow. "So, he emerges. Invent anything world-altering in there, Dr. Frankenstein?" He had on a _I-know-something-you-don't_ smile – trademark pending, it was between Natasha and Clint – that did nothing to calm the brunet's nerves, especially with the way he kept positioning that bag halfway behind his legs. Grey-blue eyes flitted between the two parts of his body still coated in extinguisher foam and the smile widened with a bout of laughter that the other stoutly ignored.

"No," he drawled. "Just wondering why J.A.R.V.I.S. said there were a couple of _kids_ in the tower. With _Brucie_. Why?"

"Oh, right." Clint's sharp grin softened a little in liking and he looked a little sheepish with his arm up at his neck. "Actually, _I_ brought them."

This time Tony raised his brows, rolling a hand. " _And?_ Who are they? Where did they go? Why were they in the _medical bay_ with _Brucie?_ "

"Peter got beat up and Harry beat somebody up."

Tony blinked. "That sounds interesting. Explain. With _detail_."

"The kids' names are Peter and Harry. They're teenagers. Peter's scrawny and has messy brown hair that looks like he cut it himself, but he's a little bit taller than Harry. Harry's pale-ish with black hair pulled into a bun, sunglasses, and a walking stick." He sounded like he was giving a mission report, if not for the faint tone of exasperation with the genius' attitude. "Peter tried to save a lady from being mugged – emphasis on _tried_ – and then Harry had to save his ass. Peter got a head injury, I found them, brought them here."

"How starstruck were they?" the man smirked cockily.

"Peter more so than Harry," Clint snickered. "But on a one-to-ten scale I think I managed to hit six or seven with Harry and eleven with Peter once I introduced him to Jarv'."

"To J.A.R.V.I.S.?"

"Yeah, he kept asking him all these questions. I didn't understand one bit."

"Hm… J, what'd Kid Number One ask you?"

"To calculate the indefinite integral of _e_ to the power of _x_ times the sine of _x_ times _dx_ if _u_ equals the sine of _x_ and _dv_ equals _e_ to the power of _x_ time _dx_ , sir."

"Damn," Tony whistled. "That's high-level stuff for a kid. How old were they?"

The other man shrugged. "I'd say around sixteen."

"And Kid Number Two?"

"Harry," the archer corrected automatically. "He mostly sat there and made sarcastic comments and worried about his friend in a kinda covered-up way."

"They're gone now?"

"Yeah, Peter forgot his bag and freaked, and Harry had left his too and seemed oddly unconcerned about that." Clint flashed a smile again. "They were weird."

Tony made a noise that was somewhere between a snort and a scoff. "So, just like everybody _else_ in this tower."

"I feel like I should be offended… but I'm really not."

"What should we be offended about?" a new, more feminine voice entered the conversation.

" _Lady_ ninja!" the metallic superhero squeaked – he would admit to it when dealing with _Natasha_ , the femme fatale that made anyone and everyone jump about six feet sky-high. He whipped around to point a finger at the casually dressed redhead, who could still probably kill him ten different ways that _didn't_ include using the knife she carried around. "Don't even _pretend_ you weren't eavesdropping!"

"I prefer the term 'gathering intel,'" she corrected with a tiny smirk.

Clint licked leftover peanut butter off his thumb before asking, "So, what's up Nat?"

"Well, Kraven the Hunter's robbing a bank."

"And we weren't notified of this _why_?"

"Spider-man's on-scene and handling it, but Steve wants to head out anyway."

"Why?"

Natasha popped a piece of gum in her mouth before answering. "I don't know everything that goes on in Cap's head. Probably a just-in-case."

"Wow, super-spy doesn't know everything? Shocker." For that, Tony received a good-natured slap upside the head as the two agents sauntered towards the elevator.

"See you out there, Tin Can," the archer called as the doors slid shut. Which looked way too cool to include the blonde in Tony's opinion.

"I'll be waiting! J.A.R.V.I.S., suit me."

The nearest floor-to-ceiling window slid open as the tinny whirrs of mechanics echoed in the walls to release the Iron Man armor.

"Right away, sir."

* * *

 ***Lucky tackles muse***

 **I got her! I finally got her!**

 ***muse elbows Lucky in the face and slips away***

 **Nooooooooo…**

 ***muffled sobs***

 **\- Brought to you by LuckyNumeralThirteen -**

 **\- And now back to your regularly scheduled programming -**

 **I'm ba-ack! Sort of. I'm leaving again tomorrow. Off to Canada (and hello to the 624 July viewers up there)! Sorry. (Why did I call this "regularly scheduled" again?) It's been crazy! And going from Western Washington to Florida is like CLIMATE SHOCK when you step outside for the first time. Lots of swimming, lots of sunshine, and me getting hooked by an anime called The Morose Mononokean. Don't ask how that happened. Sorry to jet off again but thank you all for sticking with me! Also, sorry for the rather poor quality of this sort of filler-ish chappie.**

 **Lucky (doesn't deserve all of you!)**

(A quick note to a certain reviewer with a… rather explicit username: I'm not comfortable writing said username out and I hope you understand that I have nothing against you, it's just me. I don't mean any offense. I made it into an acronym at the bottom. Sorry for the inconvenience.)

 **To Matt (Guest): Those random characters were just there for that chapter, and the one you thought was Thaila was actually my OC cameo, Aziza. Though, she was originally from a Percy Jackson and Kane Chronicles crossover fic and did get that shirt from our favorite Huntress. The guy she was sparring against was Walt from Kane Chronicles and all the other people were just randoms I came up with on the fly. This is not a crossover with KC or PJ so they won't appear again. Sorry for the confusion! And thanks for reading!**

 **To .1: Not one from canon in particular. There's some fanart in my first beginning A/N at the top of Ch. 1, but if you want you can just picture him how you'd like. The only thing that matters is that he's in a homemade costume right now.**

 **To readwritethrive: Aw, thank you! I absolutely love to write, I just lose inspiration once and a while. But I'm determined to see it through to the end!**

 **To RavelynEver: Thanks! And don't worry, I'm still writing and will keep posting, it's just summers that are weird with the updates due to my family's crazy vacation plans.**

 **To LockoLocka: Well, one thing's for sure, you succeeded in the "let's make this review too long for the email" thing! Great job on the math exam, I'm not a fan of math either. I'd rather be writing fanfiction than doing pre-calc (which is what I'm taking next year… joy…). With the "Clint noticing things" bit, it was partially a ploy to include my OC cameo and partially because I do want things to exist outside the Tower and the plot. Otherwise the world feels… incomplete to me. It might just be because I like worldbuilding too much, but whatever! Yeah, the unassuming BAMF is also called the "Crouching Moron, Hidden Badass" trope and I love it and it's so much fun to write and to read and there's a video on YouTube from Overly Sarcastic Productions that gave me that term from a video. I love that channel, but moving on! (Sorry for my ramble!) Civil War is… well, it doesn't really exist when I write fanfics because gods dangit I just want a happy Avengers family! And hey, you were right about the magic-bag-thing! So… ignoring me… thanks for the review, you are amazing as always, Locko! d(^v^)b**

 **To SMWD: Once again, apologies for the whole username thing, it's just me being weird and uncomfortable, nothing to do with you. Anyways, I'm glad to hear you like the story! And thanks for pointing out my inconsistencies, getting honest feedback is great and I love knowing what I need to improve to make things better. With the voice thing, I was mostly relying on the fact that it's been a whole year and they have other things to worry about and focus on and it slipped their minds. I also made sure to change Hiro's appearance enough (w/ the name, the hair, the glasses, and the stick) that hopefully they wouldn't notice. Admittedly, I missed a few things, sorry. As for your second review, Hiro was mostly in awe of the Tower in all of its repaired glory (plus, last time he was in it, he was a cat and more worried about the alien war going on outside). Peter… well, it's mostly just the personality I write him with. He idolizes Bruce because of science, plus all of the Avengers have gotten even more famous over the year. Spidey also has a tendency to be more confident and forward than Parker when in the mask, which has something to do with anonymity and the freedom that provides. Plus, Peter is smart enough to know that any normal person would be absolutely starstruck upon meeting any Avengers, so if he didn't act that way, there'd be suspicion. And dang this thing is long, sorry for rambling and I hope that answered your questions! I'll also be sure to improve my accuracy in the future! Thanks again! =)**


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter Thirty-Five: Peter Discovers That Walls Freaking HURT (And So Do Small Armies)

As the long metal spear displaced the air over him with a frighteningly fast _swish_ , Peter had to wonder about the _why_ of this fight. Even as he flipped back to his feet with a rapidly executed back walkover, his mind analyzed the angles. Kraven was one to hunt, hence the title of "the Hunter," his whole deal was killing endangered and rare species. Which, one, man, _not_ cool, and two, he seemed to consider spider-human hybrids within this category. _So_ not cool. Long story short, a bank robbery was not his usual scene. But here he was, trying to skewer himself some Spidey and further decorating his poor, beat-up costume in rips.

"Hey!" the hero yelped as the electrified spear caught on the fabric of his upper arm. The energy sent an unpleasant tingle down the limb, but the scratch wasn't enough to warrant any major concern. "I _just_ fixed that tear! C'mon, man!"

"Hold still, spider!" was Kraven's only angry reply. The thick-built man whirled around with his weapon, leading Spider-man in a rapid dance across the front of the bank. The money laid forgotten near the doorway and cemented the hypothesis that the shirtless man wasn't there for the cash at all. "I will have your _head!_ "

"No, I still need that!" the youth shot back. The spearpoint shot towards his goggles and almost nicked their glass before he was able to slide fluidly out of its range. A glob of webbing made itself known over Kraven's eyes while a line attached to the flying spear, swinging it around blunt-side first towards the ridiculous lion-skin vest he sported. Unfortunately, there was a reason the Hunter was so hard to beat, a fact that became apparent as he ripped the webs from his face and caught the pointed pole with his other hand. Solid metal boots shuffled into a ready position as Kraven faced Spider-man again. "So, Krav-y, what's up? Why ya want me here so bad? Aww, did you really miss me that much?"

The older grunted like the animals he took so much joy in killing and Spidey took up his own stance, lighter, balanced on the balls of his feet. "I have not missed you or your mouth, _pest_." The spear was planted firmly in the concrete and two feet were meeting a scrawny chest before Spidey could heed his spider-sense or move more than a foot down out of the way. As it was, he was struck in the chest instead of the head, flying back with the force and _through_ one of the columns that supported the front roof of the building.

" _Owwwwww…_ " The groan trailed off as the teen opened his eyes – when had they closed? – to stare up at two feet amidst the pieces of light stone from the pillar his body had just obliterated. "Oh, hey."

The Black Widow stared back down at him with one climbing eyebrow. "Hey yourself."

If the boy squeaked as he scrambled to his feet, none of the other gathered Avengers said anything. "Sorry Ag—I mean, Black Widow. Sorry."

"You said he had this handled?" Iron Man said from her right, boots meeting the ground with a _clank_.

"I did!" Spider-man snapped around to him. "You just came in during the bad part."

"Uh-huh?"

" _Ya_ -huh." From the corner of his eye, the arachnid could see movement from his opponent and suddenly slung a web-net at Kraven, wrapping him up like a Christmas present. The man almost faceplanted on the ground before he could free himself with his spear, rushing at his prey in a rage. Though, what else was new? "Welcome back to the party, Kraven, enjoy your break?" Duck under the kick, deflect the punch, sweep of the legs, and uppercut! "You're not gonna get another one!" Still reeling from the superpowered hit, Spidey was pretty sure he hadn't even realized that Hawkeye had snuck up behind him with an arrow nocked. Captain America had disappeared somewhere with Iron Man and Thor, Hulk hadn't been there in the first place – which was very good for everyone, Kraven especially – and Widow was standing there with… uh… that was Kraven's _spear_ …

Spider-man was now _very_ afraid for Kraven's life.

He parried one more hit away from his body before getting the heck outta Dodge as the hawk's blunted arrow struck the back of the hunter's head in the same moment that the elder spider decided to show off just how well she could use a spear. The result, entertainingly enough, was that the well-built man's body made an abrupt pivot so that it was parallel with the ground, causing him to smack his head on the ground. Reluctantly, the boy stuck Kraven to the ground securely with a double layer of spiderwebs just to be safe. "It's a shame, it would've been fun to watch him get beat up some more." The dark-haired man just groaned defiantly. " _Dang_ , man. How are you still conscious?"

"Kraven will not be beaten by you, _spider_ , or some _woman_."

Webbing effectively blocked any more conversation as Spidey sighed. "How 'bout you keep your sexist mouth shut?"

"Defending my honor?" Widow smirked. "How gentlemanly."

"Pr _eeeetty_ sure you don't need it, but you _are_ welcome." He gave a little bow at the waist, smiling under his mask as Hawkeye retrieved his arrow from where it fell, polishing the head on his pants for a moment. Glancing around, the teenager found that the Captain had been communing with the police squad that had showed up. Tony Stark ambled around outside of his suit, looking bored out of his mind and alternately kicking pieces of broken pillar and adding what must have certainly been snarky comments to the discussion. Coming out of the bank was Thor, who was talking animatedly to a crowd of kids, illustrating something that included a loud explosion. "If you don't mind me asking, why are almost _all_ the Avengers here? Couldn't be for little ol' Krav-y."

"Contingencies, just-in-case situations, and whatever other reason Cap' could come up with," the blonde with the bow put in. "I kinda think he was just bored."

"Old men have their hobbies," Spider-man consoled with a wider grin and a pat on his shoulder as he walked past. With the man's snickering following him, the younger approached the police officer, who seemed quite starstruck to be talking to Captain America. "Ahoy there Cap'n!"

"I think you have the wrong type of captain, Spider-man," he answered, but not without a small smile.

"How are things, officer?"

"G-good, Spider-man." The poor guy looked like he was about to pass out from superhero-exposure. "We'll have Kraven in custody in minutes. Nothing was stolen."

Spidey's previous grin shrank a bit at the reminder of the mystery of the crime. "And therein lies the problem," he mumbled to himself.

"Huh?"

"Nothing." It was short and out of character and he knew they both were looking at him oddly because of it, but he swung away anyway with an almost casual yank of his arm. Shooting a glance backwards, he almost met Kraven's eyes as the criminal watched him go with a razorblade gaze. Something was off about the whole situation and it was sending shivers of anticipation up his spine. Almost his spider-sense, but not quite. The boy wheeled around in the air to head towards an empty alley, landing on the wall a few feet above the ground to let out a deep breath. Almost immediately after he'd done so, a resounding _clap_ rang around him like a gunshot, startling him off the wall in a flurry of motion. Instinctively, Spider-man flung out a clenched fist towards the culprit that stopped not a centimeter away from a delicate nose as he abruptly realized the person's identity.

Hiro's leafy eyes peered around his hand at him and he carefully raised one eyebrow. "Hullo." At the singular word, the New Yorker jumped back into a much less aggressive stance and yanked his arm back to his side, flustered.

" _Dangit_ , Hiro! You can't just _do_ that!"

"Sor- _ry!_ "

"It just—it sounds like a _gunshot_! Like a freaking _gun_!"

"You're the one who's all _jumpy_!"

"I _should_ be jumpy! I'm the one who gets _shot at_ daily!"

"Okay, okay!" the raven-haired teen placated with both his hands raised. "I'll work on it! I don't know if it's _possible_ , but I'll try!"

"Good!" They looked at each other, one in a colorful vigilante's garb and the other hiding beneath his own hood, clothed in greys and blacks. When the corner of Hiro's mouth began to twitch upwards in an involuntary smile, neither could hold in a round of quiet chuckles. "Sorry."

"Eh, it's alright," Hiro waved off, shrugging.

Peter ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "It's just this _thing_ … with Kraven. It's weird. He's 'the Hunter'…"

"And he's not the type to go robbing banks willy-nilly," the other finished frustratedly. "You _did_ say he was dab hand at the hunting thing, so why would he change?"

"Yeah, and I know from experience." The brunet purposefully ignored the darker expression that overcame his friend's face at that statement. Hiro himself chose to occupy his hands by tapping his center finger rapidly against his thigh, finding a less destructive method of getting the energy out than tracking Kraven down and punching him in the conk. Which would've been extremely satisfying for the magical teenager. "The only reason _I_ can think of is funding, if he ran out of money to buy… whatever it is he needs… to hunt things…" his words petered out at the end as the superhero lost what he was saying.

"Hunting supplies? Traps and such?"

"Yes, _that!_ But… then _that_ whole theory is debunked by the fact that Kraven didn't even take any money. Just kinda blew a hole in the wall and started fighting me."

"And the Avengers," the boy wizard added, and his nose twitched like he had an itch he refused to scratch. Which was probably one of the most adorable things in the world, according to his friend. "What were those nutters doing there anyway?"

If Peter had been drinking anything, he would have spit it out. "Did you just call the world's _premier superhero team_ crazy?!"

"They're the world's _only_ superhero team." Hiro paused, considering something. "Well, there's you too, but you're also a nutter."

"Hey! Wait, but doesn't that also make _you_ crazy for hanging around me?"

"Well, yes, but we already knew that."

"… point."

"You sound like Stark, but speaking of points, back to mine," he reminded the other boy.

Peter clapped his hands together. "Right. Hawkeye said something about Captain America being bored and just-in-case scenarios, but I'm not sure. I mean, I believe the just-in-case part – even though I'm kinda-sorta offended at their lack of faith in _moi_ – but other than that, it was just Krav-y."

"Plus you, plus _explosives_ ," the Brit counted on his fingers before looking up. "And thanks to that crusty old newsreader Jameson, you don't have the best reputation for being able to handle things."

"Aw, you'd think they'd trust me after the Battle," he pouted. Hiro just smiled at him.

"You're a lot more talkative as Spidey, you know that?"

" _Maaaay_ be."

"Hmm."

"Okay, maybe more than maybe." Hiro's nose twitched again, this time accompanied by him pressing his lips together in a familiar motion of suppressed laughter, and Peter scored a point for himself in his head. In the alley, the two stood alone in the "silence" of the city, that being the usual buzz and hum of everyday people going about their everyday lives. It all blended together into background noise uninterrupted except in their backstreet bubble where they spoke to each other and… a tapping…

To the right…

And the left…

"Something's coming," the spider bit out, his hand suddenly grasping the mage's arm. A switch was flipped in both of them, eyes that once sparked with humor and their companionship now sharpened, focused into awareness of a fight and protection. Companionship to protection. It wasn't an overly large leap, more of a slight, serious transfer. Spider-man let go of the arm as both sunk into stances, his fists up and the black-haired boy's hands loosely aimed.

"Where?"

"Left, right, everywhere."

"How many?"

"Can't tell."

A _clink_ … _clink_ … _clink_ echoed through the alley from the left opening and two heads whipped around to see Kraven the Hunter strolling down the asphalt like he hadn't just been arrested. The tip of his spear went from touching the ground every so often to dragging with a soft _rrrr_ sound that set one's nerves on edge.

Spidey lifted a gloved hand to point at the large man. "Didn't I _just_ beat you up? This feels like déjà vu…"

"Ah, spider," came the accented greeting. "Just like cornered prey to stall their coming death." The hunter's eyes halted on Hiro. "And you've found a friend. This will make things _much_ more interesting."

Behind the goggles, brown eyes narrowed as he shifted in front of his aforementioned friend, who seemed slightly affronted but allowed it. "What was that about my coming death, Krav-y? 'Cause I think you're just headed for another _beatdown_."

"Not this time, spider," Kraven assured him as his ugly grimace turned into a malicious grin. "Not this time."

"Okay, the first time you said it, it was just like all the other bad guys I end up beating anyway, but the second time it was just creepy." Something scuttled on the edge of his senses. It was metallic. It was getting closer. Behind him, Hiro tensed, then – in a burst of motion – ducked around the costumed vigilante and flung a red-colored beam of light at the villain in front of them. It was right on target – until it wasn't, and it hit a metal figure that had dropped before Kraven not a second too late.

A robot.

Of all things, a _robot_. The form was entirely metallic, though not huge enough to overtake the man it protected. It was still taller than both the teenagers, with empty eye-sockets and wires running inside the metal layers of its limbs. And it wasn't alone. More emerged, running in vaguely jerkily from the ends of the alley or jumping down from the rooftops around. They were rapidly surrounded. Well, at least now he knew what the tapping was from earlier, the random sounds he heard in the background of the background noise.

"Dammit," Hiro growled. "They're mechanical, stunners won't knock them out."

"Yep, got that," Spider-man murmured back. "Now what?"

"You die!" Kraven yelled and launched himself at them faster than his mechanical compatriots could react, though they weren't far behind. As he flew towards them as a lioness on her prey, the humanoid pieces of tech ran forwards like a wave, both parties intent on the two boys in their midst. Though, they weren't exactly willing to go quietly.

At the same moment that Spidey shot his first webline, a different colored spell jumped from Hiro's waiting fingertips in a sharp, thin swath that scythed through the first line of 'bots. Ten fell down, cut cleanly in half, and he whirled around to put a hole through the processing core of another while his brunet vigilante friend finished untangling his hand from where it had gotten stuck in a form's spindly ribcage, fist full of wires. It was a blur, occasionally interrupted by the all but forgotten Hunter's spear, though the man himself was nowhere in sight, that almost stuck one of them through the stomach, but more often than not took out one of the robots instead.

The third time the metal rod flew in from out of the clear blue sky – though the actual sky was more smoggy than blue – Spider-man had practically fallen off the mini-mech he was riding in order to tackle Hiro out of the way. The fourth time, it missed entirely and impaled a twitching technological minion to a solid stone wall. The fifth time, he noticed the widening of Hiro's eyes before his spider-sense could even begin to give him another headache. That time, he knew it was too late.

He had a half-destroyed 'bot wrapped around one leg.

His hand had gotten stuck in another one, _again_.

He couldn't move fast enough, and he knew it.

" _Protego Maxima!"_

 _Thunk. Clank! Whump. CLA-CRUNCH._

But it seems he didn't have to.

Though this was a _really_ awkward position…

Even with his goggles shoved halfway-too-far up his face and forcing his eyes shut, Peter could make a pretty good assumption as to what had happened: Hiro casts weird magic spell. Weird magic spell stops spear. And… well, he wasn't sure what those third and fourth sounds had been, but he was on the ground now. He tried to pry his arm out of whatever was holding it down to no success. A different hand came up – fingers still thin, skin still callused, but in different places – and lifted his lenses at the bridge of his nose, poking his eye in the process. "Hey!"

"Sorry!" Hiro's voice came filtering back, and Peter relaxed a little. He allowed his friend to gingerly replace the upper part of his disguise over his peepers before he dared open them. When he did… at least now he could see why his arm was stuck. His raven-haired buddy was laying on it, though to be honest, it looked like _he_ was more on top of _Hiro_ than Hiro was on top of him. His black-clothed legs were on the other's back and his arm was stuck under Hiro's stomach while the rest of the half-blind Englishman was buried under what appeared to be a passed-out Kraven the Hunter. Littered around them and the alley were the carcasses of robots, most of which seemed to have been previously webbed, magicked, or just ripped/punched/kicked apart, but a few that looked like they'd been squished between the building's wall and an invisible wall that was now… gone. Weird.

"Is Kraven out for good?" was the first question out of his mouth.

The other teenager huffed in a way that reminded Peter of when he was a cat. " _Thank you_ , Hiro. I'm so glad you were here to save me from that _spear_ , Hiro. I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier, Hiro."

"Come _on_ , you said we were good!"

"…"

"Okay, _thank you_. And I'm sorry. Happy?"

"Quite chuffed, actually. Our mutual friend is indeed out for the count. Now, can you help me get this bloke offa me? He's bloody _heavy_."

"Hmmm," the arachnoid hummed smugly, "I don't know, I'm pretty comfy where I am." With Hiro practically on top of his chest? Yes, he was going to savor this for as long as possible before they went back to "friends-who-share-the-same-alley-at-night" and he was forced back to the occasional glance and half-side-hug. "You make a _wonderful_ footrest." But apparently, Peter's brain was not connected to his mouth at the moment.

"Well I'm glad my back is such a _lovely_ place to stick your dirty shoes," he grumbled. "Now, in the eternal words of Ron Weasley: _Geroff!_ " With quite a bit of shuffling, and probably an excessive amount of awkwardness, they managed to untangle themselves from each other and as Peter shoved the Hunter limply off Hiro, the two stood up practically nose-to-nose. The raven was the first to move away even as Peter gave him a strange look, then started to web up all the robots, giving Kraven an thicker cocoon than he had the last time at the bank. A wood-ish sounding clatter led Hiro to his somehow unbroken stick, though his tinted glasses had a spiderweb-crack arcing across one of the lenses, and of course he saw the irony in that description. The fractures didn't impede his awful vision anymore than usual, so he placed them back on the bridge of his nose and squinted through them at a nearby, disembodied robot arm. "Care to explain perhaps _why_ we were ambushed by bloody robots and Kraven the Hunter?"

Peter grunted through his facemask as he shifted a robot with a fist-shaped hole so it looked like it was sitting against the wall, catching Hiro's strange – and most likely unflattering – hissing language in the background after he kicked one with a resounding _clang_ and a muffled yelp of pain. "You good?"

"Yeah, yeah."

The brunet stood up with a sigh. "I don't know. But somebody else _has_ to have built those 'bots. Kraven definitely couldn't" He could feel the shorter of the two drifting up like a breeze over his shoulder, but he still flinched when the hand fell on his arm.

"That complicates things. If they're after Spider-man…"

"We might have to lay low for a little."

"Can't get much lower than the streets."

* * *

 **Alternately titled "Natasha Romanoff Is A Badass And Everyone Knows It."**

 **Also, I am very, very sorry for the terrible fight scene I wrote in the alley. It was awful and everybody knows it. But I think a terrible update is better than none, yes? And this one contains plot elements, ooooo!**

 **In other news, HOLY FLARKING CANNOLI! 236 reviews, 582 followers, 423 favorites, over 86,600 words as of this chapter, and 98,502 views! That's almost 100,000 views! I never expected anything like this when I began posting. I expected a couple people, not this absolutely stunning response! I cannot thank all of you enough!**

 **But in all seriousness, I have to apologize for disappearing on y'all. This is why I use phrases like "should" instead of "will" when talking about my schedule. Unfortunately, I have some not-so-great news for you readers. You all know how my updates went from twice a week to once a week. Now, I'm finding that I can't keep up with a once-a-week schedule and the only reason I could even last this long on either schedule is because I had a bunch of pre-written chapters. Like, twenty-ish of them and then I wrote more even as I posted.**

 **I could give you so many paragraphs of excuses about how I haven't had as much time to write and how life is conspiring against me (IT IS I SWEAR), but I'll just give you this:**

 **I will NOT abandon this story. I will NOT discontinue this story. It WILL finish, it just might take longer because I absolutely refuse to give you guys a rushed or cruddy chapter (or at least not cruddier than usual). You do not deserve that.**

 **I can't apologize enough that I have to do this, but I'm out of both options and chapters. I literally just finished this one not an hour ago. I know I'm a slow and occasionally terrible writer, but I do my absolute best with everything I write. There might be weeks or even a month in between chapters, but I will continue to update, just not on a solid schedule.**

 **Once again, I am so, so, so unbelievably sorry for this. As I said in my previous A/N, I truly don't deserve your support, but it makes me so happy to be providing something you all enjoy so much.**

 **I'll see you next time with another chapter, I promise. Thank you all for your continued support. (Sorry for the super long A/N as well)**

 **Lucky**

 **To ellainaparker: Aw, so much misplaced confidence! But thank you, I try my best.**

 **To twilightserius: Hope that wasn't too anticlimactic for you, but hey, Pete and Hiro made it first!**

 **To winfield56: Hey! XD But you're welcome, though I must thank you for reading!**

 **To Merlin (Guest): Okay, sorry for that. The Avengers know Spider-man (but not Peter Parker) and Hiro (as a cat and very briefly as a magic British boy with a shorter haircut who showed no signs of having eyesight issues). Now they're met with Peter Parker (who shows no real connection Spider-man) and Harry (who has a new haircut and is half-blind with glasses and a walking stick). They haven't yet made the connections that Peter is Spidey's secret ID and that "Harry" is actually "Hiro." I know it's a stretch and I'm not the best with this, but the Avengers basically are unaware of the all the secret ID shenanigans that are going on right now. They'll get it eventually…**

 **To Silvermane1: No, unfortunately not right now… =( But I was considering having him play a role in the future… we'll see. Tell me what you think.**

 **To Sly the gratsulover117: Thank you! This is why my Spidey doesn't follow one canon background, so that I can pick all the pieces out that I want to add to the story and not have to worry about any extra details that don't jive with the story. It gives me more freedom as a writer, which is always fun to play with!**

 **To Lockolocka: Oh gods of Olympus, you have no idea how happy these things make me! You're amazing and funny and yes, your reviews are still too long for the email! And really, I found like one or two short oneshot-ish stories with the Peter/Harry pairing and then I was like "This needs better representation, it's adorable and has so much potential" coupled with some fangirl cooing on the background… because, well, me. Honestly, most of my reason for writing this story is to write cute moments and comfort moments and all the fun Avengers-in-the-Tower stuff you don't get to see anymore because the fandom dissolved into sad things after Civil War and Infinity War and Endgame. I'm in flarking love with it all. Hope you liked more BAMF Natasha in this chapter! And yes! OSP is the one YouTube channel I follow consistently, and have you seen their Redbubble merch site? It rocks! (Redbubble's just a site where people can sell their art and/or fanart on stuff like shirts and stickers and junk if you didn't know, look it up. I have way too many shirts from them, including a Midtown Tech shirt from Homecoming.) Anyways, thank so much once again!**


	36. Chapter 36

**I'M ALIVE PEOPLE! Make sure y'all thank Willow4576 for their review, because otherwise this chapter wouldn't be up!**

* * *

Chapter Thirty-Six: Tony Just Wanted Some Damn Coffee

*TIME SKIP: A COUPLE DAYS*

10:31 AM

Brucie Bear: Our coffee machine broke again. I think it was Steve this time. Going to get something at the café. You want?

11:04 AM

Man of Iron: Yessss

Man of Iron: Pleasssssssse

Man of Iron: Too late?

Man of Iron: Large, something with caffeine

Man of Iron: COFEEEEEEE

Man of Iron: Yes please

Man of Iron: I DON'T CARE WHAT IT IS AS LONG AS IT'S A LARGE

Man of Iron: Did you receive?

Man of Iron: CONFIRM DAMMIT!

Man of Iron: =..(

11:10 AM

Brucie Bear: Sorry, Tony. I went earlier. I've been back for a while now.

11:32 AM

Man of Iron: DAMMIT!

12:00 PM

Brucie Bear: You have a problem.

…

Tony pouted down at his phone as the latest message from Bruce popped in, even as he shouldered his way out the door of the café that had taken him a good half hour to find and finally order his heavenly nectar – read: coffee – from. He did not have a problem! Not with his so-called "coffee addiction" and not with the five-pound bags under his hazel eyes. What he did have a problem with was that both his hands were full, and his sunglasses were sliding down his nose in an irksome fashion.

Carefully, Tony lifted the hand that still held his phone and shoved said lenses farther to the bridge of his nose, somehow managing to avoid knocking off the cap he'd thrown over his ruffled and most likely greasy hair. The concept that a simple hat and a pair of glasses could hide someone effectively was ridiculous, but he wasn't going to complain about the positive results, even if they did make a sad statement about humanity's attention to detail. Tony could stroll down a street with his usual cocky swagger without being chased by about one dozen reporters and two dozen cameras, just like he was now.

Past a poor college guy sitting on a bench with an honest-to-Thor typewriter and some crazy in full witch-doctor-voodoo-type getup for some reason unknown. Only in New York. He took a sip of his coffee as he walked down the street, avoiding the people who didn't give him a second glance, slowly making his way to the Tower. The genius cut through an alley he knew would let him skip a couple crossings and was about to turn down another, had he not come practically face-to-face with a scrawny teen in a dumpster. Though all he saw was a flash of brown hair and Caucasian skin tones before the boy let out a hoarse squeak and toppled into the metal container with a clattering crash.

"There's a kid in the dumpster," the man muttered to himself before speaking up. "Hey, kid, you alright?"

"Fine!" the word echoed from somewhere in its depths. A tuft of hair poked above the rim, followed by a pair of wide eyes and another squeak-ish sound. Tony was hit by how familiar he looked just seeing the top part of his face, like a physical hit to the forehead, but something was missing and his train of thought was blown off the tracks before it could continue by the next words. "Tony Stark?!"

"You recognize me?"

The teenager frowned. "You think 'cause I can't see your eyes you aren't still super famous?" Then his dark eyes widened as he realized what he said, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. "Sorry!"

"It's fine, kid," Tony replied with a snort. The lanky form stood up fully, seemingly finding the content to be shaky ground, and clambered in a surprisingly not clumsy way out and over the edge, brushing off a layer of grime from his pants. Not that it did them any good. They seemed to be permanently coated in dirt. Something tickled at the back of his brain as he ran his eyes over the guy, who was currently unbuttoning his olive jacket hyperactively, like he wasn't sure what to do with himself and this was better than just fidgeting. Tony had seen him before, or maybe not, maybe he matched something else. Part of it clicked just then. "Kid Number One!" At the excited exclamation, the brunet looked up in confusion. "The guy Clint brought in, er… what's your name?"

"Peter."

"Peter!" he repeated with a snap, like he'd known it all along. "Wait, where's Kid Number Two?"

"Hi-Harry?"

"Harry! Where is he? Or is he at home?"

"Uh, he's over here," Peter didn't even blink at the rapid words and gestured over his shoulder jerkily with a half-turn. "Somewhere." He didn't seem to want to take his eyes off Tony, but nonetheless he turned fully around and took a couple steps to the other side of the trash container where the elder couldn't see, though he followed. The two found, slumped up against the wall, a sleeping boy, sunglasses still perched on his nose and wisps of black hair coming out of where it was tied back. If not for the steady rise-and-fall of his chest, one could assume he'd been mugged and left in the backstreet to die, a theory accentuated by the dark bruise peeking out on a protruding collarbone.

The billionaire was startled off that morbid subject suddenly when the boy – Harry, he reminded himself – rolled his head over in his sleep, mumbling something unintelligible under his breath. Peter crouched down next to the other cautiously and was about to nudge him awake with the extended arm when the raven jolted forward. His arms flew up, fingers splayed and palms out in an aborted motion as his eyes found Peter's after flicking around wildly. The thin chest had been heaving in the same uncontrollable, erratic fashion but it calmed as the brunet beside him spread a hesitant hand in the middle of it, unsure if this was allowed but wanting to help.

Harry nodded softly to his friend before he threw up a smile seeing the shape of Tony in the background. "Wotcher, mate. What're you doing here?"

"H-Harry!" Peter stuttered out in a sort of scratchy half-whisper. "That's _Tony Stark_."

"Ah, your nerd-crush. Well, one of them."

"Wha- where did yo- no!"

"Should I be jealous?"

"No!"

"Good." The statement from the still-sitting Kid Number Two was accompanied by some crazy arm-waving from Kid Number One and Tony couldn't help but snicker at their interaction.

"Yeah, you're a little young for me kid," the adult put in, smug grin still in place. Cue even more sputtering from Peter and a loud laugh from Harry, though it didn't sound as real as it should. Yet the pale Brit hauled himself to his feet with a groan and a complaint from the sad-looking walking stick that he leaned a little too much of his weight on as he stood. One of the pale-skinned hands reached around his side to stretch his back, a loud crack practically echoing off the alley walls.

"Urgh. Remind me not to sleep in any more alleys," the boy moaned before sticking his tongue out at Peter, who bit his lip mid-smile. The brunet raised his hands and shrugged under the gaze that was presumably focused on him from under the sunglasses, as if saying "what can you do?", sparking a grin on the other's face at some kind of inside joke. "Yeah, I know, I know." Harry waved his friend off, though his aim was a little off and he accidentally slapped the teen on the shoulder, prompting both a flurry of apologies and an impromptu slap-fight. Which devolved into a poke-fight that ended when the two remembered they weren't alone.

Tony, for his part, had found this very entertaining. "Oh, don't stop on my account." He pressed a hand to his chest and smirked. "I wouldn't want to get in the way of whatever… _this_ relationship is." Both the teenagers lit up like Jack-o'-lanterns on Halloween, cheeks flushing matching shades of red. Oh-ho, now this was interesting.

"Friends!" Peter blurted and shuffled about on inch farther away. "Just friends." From barely in front of him, the raven bobbed his head in agreement one too many times as he stretched the bottom of his sweatshirt in between his fingers. The poor hemline looked like it had been subjected to the treatment before.

"Whatever you say, kid," the brunet drawled insincerely, his smirk never falling.

"I'm not a kid!"

"So what were you doing in the dumpster—" he paused, his expression spreading into a smile "—kid?"

The teen – see, not calling him a kid! – took the time to give him a freaking _pout_ before answering, "Just trying to find some stuff. Don't have the money for most of it." Well that was vague. Harry's glasses turned towards the back of Peter's head as he reached out and snatched something from the dirty brown locks, trying not to let his lips twitch up in a grin.

"Well, you found this," he said as he twirled the piece of red wiring between two fingers. Brown eyes blinked widely at the snippet and flicked to Harry briefly, whose nose crinkled in response. "Hey, I know my eyesight is wonky, but I can still tell the difference between red and brown, mate."

"Little more than 'wonky.'"

"We've been over this, it's—"

"Okay, enough of that," Tony broke into the conversation with his usual lack of tact. "It's… infuriatingly obvious." That comment earned him a pair of confused glances, but he soldiered on. Heroically, he might add. "Back to _my_ question. The important one. Just what sort of _garbage_ were you expecting to find in the _garbage?_ " Not to mention they were in the alleyway of a sort of science-lab-supply store that really should've been managing its waste better.

"Um, sometimes they throw out broken parts that aren't too broken… or chemicals that weren't stored properly and something happened to them, but they still work!" Tony considered the adolescent for a long moment while Peter kept rambling about how even though the chemicals weren't perfect or were contaminated – did this kid have _any_ self-preservation instincts left? – they were fine for whatever the hell he was doing with them. There were weird burns and tiny, messily stitched rips that looked like they were from something worse than a scrape with the sidewalk on his black pants; rough bruises on the knuckles not covered by the fingerless gloves.

The billionaire clapped loudly, probably interrupting the ramble, and the two flinched. Filing _that_ for later investigation. "Here's what's going to happen. You, science kid, are going to stop digging around in… _second-hand_ lab junk. That's asking for trouble, which is okay for super-geniuses like me but not for civvy-kids like you." Harry raised an eyebrow at this remark, though the brown-eyed boy at his side seemed bemused. "You are going to get a once-in-a-lifetime look at the one and only Tony Stark's lab," he finished with an expansive flourish. Pepper may have been right about his flair for dramatics. But it was fun to make the little kiddies gape like fish out of water.

"How—you can't—why—" Speaking of which, he might have broken Peter.

"The answer to two of those is 'I'm Tony Stark,'" the man replied with a rakish smile. "The other is 'why not?' Glasses, you coming?"

"Yep." Tony was proud to see that the raven had to take an incredulous second before answering. "Gotta make sure you're not a pedophile," Harry then riposted back smoothly.

In the background, Peter tried once more, in a less-than-valiant attempt. "I can't—"

"Why not?" the celebrity challenged.

"I got… homework an' stuff…" The boy's friend was currently giving him a ridiculous look over his shades. Tony privately agreed.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that." He strode out of the alley with a smug countenance that only grew when he heard the two pairs of light steps hurrying urgently to catch up. The occasional tap of the stick accompanied his company and he laughed after a yelp alerted him that Peter had gotten in the way of it. Not bothering with the main entrance, he led the two around to the back door the Avengers used to sneak out without causing a media frenzy and into the equally high-tech elevator that made the brunet youth's fingers twitch in excitement.

"Hi again, J.A.R.V.I.S.!" he chirped – fricking _chirped_ , this boy was too much – as Harry filed in behind him.

"Hello, Mr. Parker. Which floor, sir?"

"Lab, J."

"Of course."

Peter was frowning at the ceiling and he had to restrain himself from telling him J.A.R.V.I.S. wasn't actually up there. "How'd he know my last name? Did you look me up? Did _Mr. Barton_ look me up? Or—"

"Facial recognition, small fry. It's in his programming for any new arrivals, to make sure they're not a threat. I don't even look through it, usually."

" _Small fry?"_

"Hey, you're the one who vetoed 'kid.'" Maybe he would have to look them up. Tony _had_ found them dumpster-diving and the other teenager had been _sleeping_ behind the thing. Maybe this was one solution that his usual shove-money-at-it problem-solving strategy would work to fix. Absently, he sauntered out when the doors opened, leading them up the flight of stairs, and almost ignoring the excited noises that were Peter's reaction to his workspace.

"Holy crud, Harry look at this place! Look at it! It's huge!" Well, it was an entire floor. "Whoa, look at the electron microscope! And an engine, and a holographic tabletop set-up, and that's gotta be the fanciest fume hood in the world! Look at this place!"

Harry replied with a smile. "Yeah, I'm looking. Can't see much, but all the blurs look very expensive."

"They are!" Ah, so that explains why Pete had been walking around with his hands clasped behind his back. "Holy—that's an Iron Man suit!"

And so it was, clean and standing tall in its display, shining gold and hot-rod red. The blank mask stared back at the boys, unimpressed with the ogling.

"You like it?" Tony asked from wherever he was across the lab. "Built it myself."

"Could use a little work."

"Hi-Harry!"

"What?"

This time, the American simply elected to ignore his friend. "It's amazing Mr. Stark! The name's misleading though, since it's gold ti—"

"Titanium alloy," he finished distractedly, having found one of his smaller projects. "That's what I told Pepper at the conference."

"The one after Af—" Peter cut himself off thoughtfully. "Is it true you managed to build the first suit just from scraps?" Relieved, the billionaire gave him a camera-worthy smirk and started rambling about the first suit and how it's specs were _so_ inferior to what he has now and how he had to build it out of missile parts, _so_ unfair. Because if he'd mentioned _that_ place then he'd have to remember the blood and the water and the drowning and the _come on, you're gonna go see your family._

The youth is the only one who notices Hiro give him an understanding nod and he smiles back.

And then Peter's stomach interrupts the moment Tony didn't know they were having with the loudest gurgling grumble the man had heard since Thor had forgot they were out of Poptarts. "Damn, shorty, when was the last time you ate?"

"Uh…" The adult and kid simultaneously gave him looks. "W-well, we going to find some food somewhere—"

"My plan was to just pickpocket someone again," Harry butted in, his face giving nothing away.

"What?!"

The raven shrugged. "It's not like it's hard."

"That doesn't mean you should do it!" Peter exclaimed before abruptly halting. "You can't just—wait, did you say again?!"

"… this is why I don't tell you things."

In the background, Tony was biting his lip to keep from collapsing with laughter at the scene – though it was a fair question as to whether Kid Number Two was joking or not… it seemed more like not. Which was concerning, even to him. "How about this," he proposed. "Glasses doesn't steal anything—" Peter gave his companion a squinty glare that had absolutely no heat behind it. "—and you two stay."

"Stay?" they chorused. And then refused to peek at each other's pink faces. "What do you mean?" the taller of the two questioned warily.

Tony waved a flippant hand. "For dinner. And the night." That last part was on a whim, but nobody had to know he'd gone all soft and worried on a couple random teens he'd found in a Dumpster. He should probably talk to Clint about that because he's almost certain Legolas didn't know. "Alright, lab time's over, out, out, out!" The engineer chased them back into the stairwell, clapping at them when _one_ of them caught a glimpse of DUM-E at his charging station in the corner and stopped mid-step. One guess as to who that was.

Both allowed themselves to be shooed out and bolted downstairs at a frankly unsafe speed that about resulted in Harry finding an even faster way down, but both wore wide grins. They were headed around the corner to continue their downwards trek when Tony called them back with a quick, "And where do you think you're going?" before opening the door reading "Floor 90" with a grand flourish. Without any sort of hesitation present, the Brit made an abrupt about-face, walking with comically fake superiority past the bowing philanthropist… and straight into someone who was only slightly softer than a brick wall.

* * *

 **I'm really not saying Tony's more observant than Clint. But Tony spent way more time around Spidey in the lab and saw him with his goggles off a lot more than the brief bit during Hiro's back-to-human scene, so it's more likely for him to vaguely recognize him. No one spent too much time with human-Hiro, so it makes sense they've forgotten the teen they spent maybe 30 minutes around over a year ago.**

 **There are two lines from Captain America: Civil War in this chapter. I own zip, they just worked too perfectly =D**

 **Also, writer's block sucks and it took me way too long to get over it and I feel like my Tony has suffered because of it in this chapter. So, apologies. I will also be answering reviews in PM's instead of in A/N's from now on so that I can maybe avoid long notes like this one. (BTW, sorry for the length of it!)**

 **And finally, sorry for taking flarking months. _Jaws_ of all things is what got my muse working again (seriously, WTH, muse?). I actually don't have anything written yet after this and so can't promise when the next bit will be out. The original plan was to put off updating until I wrote the rest of the story, but I got a couple reviews that changed my mind ^-u-^**

 **I'll update when I can, but no promises as to speed! Note, this story is NOT ABANDONED and NOT UP FOR ADOPTION, I'm just really slow XP**

 **Love y'all, thanks for sticking with it!**

 **Lucky**

 **Remember, this is the last time reviews will be answered in-chapter:**

 **To Tzapporah: Oh my gosh, Double D and Harry? Beautiful. Currently DD isn't a part of this universe unfortunately, but maybe I'll do an extra or something. I haven't seen the show, but I've read plenty of comics! Thanks for the idea and for reading!**

 **To Elementh: Thanks for your honest feedback! I'll keep things like that in mind for future chapters and fics. Yeah, the 31 chapters thing was a little long… really didn't mean for it to be, TBH. Oops…**

 **To Hikari Nova: I know in the books the final battle at Hogwarts happens when he's seventeen, but I screwed with the timeline a lot, so he's fourteen in the beginning. As of this chapter, both the boys are 17. Sorry for the confusion, but thanks for reading!**

 **To TheOtterKnight: Thanks for all the reviews! To the one from Chapter 9… I KNOOOW I'M SO SORRY DX. To the one from Chapter 15, Cap gives him a ten-dollar bill because of a scene from the actual Avengers movie that happened off-screen (page?) in this story. It'll make more sense if you watch it, but the basics are Cap didn't think anything could surprise him anymore… and then Fury shows him a flying aircraft carrier, lol. To Chapter 31, all I can say to that is lol XD**

 **To fraidykat: Aw, thanks! Unfortunately, my muse is still running wild… I think they're somewhere in the anime section, ssshhh…**

 **To Willow4576: Aaahhh do your homework (yes, I'm a huge hypocrite). I am active! Hello! I'm still writing, thanks for checking in ;P and this fic will never be abandoned! I'm sticking with it, it's just unfortunately hit a rough spot that I'm trying to get through before the exciting things come. Thank you so much for your review, I wasn't expecting one so far after my last chapter post! You're the reason this chapter is up, be proud! d^.^b**


End file.
